On the balcony

Rovin. Football. Oblivion

/Photo: Reather/Flickr.com

The entrance of a typical block house and the fourth floor without an elevator do not portend, as a rule, nothing good. But from the balcony, a completely magical view of the ancient Puluostera city suddenly opens-ships in the sea, roof tiles, bell tile ... and with an arc behind them-the horizon line.

Day after day, all this slowly brightens, gains color and depth - and then explodes with a sunset, never repeating the shapes and colors. You can watch this balcony cinema without looking up. To leave the session is only to the TV, for football ...

But then, of course, to go not into the apartment, but to one of the city cafes!

In the days when Croatia was playing, everything here was grown as a red-white cell of the national flag-from a handkerchief on a pug to a T-shirt on a brave grandfather. Grandfather with a twisted mustache and a fashionable beard, seemed to remember Mussolini, but, like a kid, cut on a moped in a patriotic outfit and the same checkered bandana.

Having frivolously getting involved in Croatian patriotism (the benefit of Russia did not cross this time), there, in ancient Rovin, along with this grandfather and the whole city, I shared the frivolous happiness of victory (the city exploded from the heads with a roar, must be audible in Venice) and listened to deep silence at the hour of final defeat ...

God! How good it is to live when the main object of curses is a Japanese judge who put your penalty team, which was not there, and the main sadness is Mexico losing ...

Someone Putin flashed in my TV once on the German channel, and was immediately de -energized by me. No: anything, just not that. In fact, I came here here - to be forgotten.

And what else remains?

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The plane under the command of the sleeping pilot confidently entered the corkscrew, and a meeting with reality is a matter of time ... In essence, it makes no sense to worry sitting, wait

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Still, this is still a feeling: that nothing depends on you. Not that a lot depended earlier, but now ... The plane under the command of a sleeping pilot confidently entered a corkscrew, and a meeting with reality is a matter of time. (The joyful cries of passengers from the cabin only add charm of the situation.)

That is, in essence, it does not even make sense to worry. Sit, wait.

It is possible on the balcony.

The news that I missed here are undoubtedly important, but, alas, these are only the details of the historical fall. All this Putin circus with horses and the Federation Council, all these attempts to pass between the streams and portray a macho without damaging Western accounts - all this seems to affect the route only, but not by the outcome. I'm not talking about Ukraine now - about Russia.

All this becomes especially obvious when looking from afar, so to speak, from the chill of the distance, temporary or even geographical. “When you swim in the lava, you do not feel the temperature” (Yuri Trifonov).

And so, cooing at the distance, you catch yourself on sad associations. ... I read this myth in the Gasparian presentation of Herodotus. A certain king, on the advice of a friend, sacrificed his most expensive ring to the gods, throwing it into the sea. But the ring swallowed the fish, the fishermen caught the fish and gave the king ... And the royal cooks, cutting the fish, found a magnificent ring and gave it to the owner.

And the king’s friend, having learned about this, said: the gods did not accept your gift, and troubles are waiting for you. And since I can’t prevent them, I break friendship with you, for I do not want to witness these troubles ...

The homeland is not a king from a legend, and to break the internal connection with it on the eve of trouble will still not work. But we, apparently, did not work out with us. Therefore, we are sitting on the balcony, each in his own, with a view of the dawn, then at the sunset, and then we look at football.

Everything will end there well.

Even Suarez, it seems, will not bite anyone.