Литературный портал Графоманам.НЕТ — настоящая находка для тех, кому нравятся современные стихи и проза. Если вы пишете стихи или рассказы, эта площадка — для вас. Если вы читатель-гурман, можете дальше не терзать поисковики запросами «хорошие стихи» или «современная проза». Потому что здесь опубликовано все разнообразие произведений — замечательные стихи и классная проза всех жанров. У нас проводятся литературные конкурсы на самые разные темы.

К авторам портала

Публикации на сайте о событиях на Украине и их обсуждения приобретают всё менее литературный характер.

Мы разделяем беспокойство наших авторов. В редколлегии тоже есть противоположные мнения относительно происходящего.

Но это не повод нам всем здесь рассориться и расплеваться.

С сегодняшнего дня (11-03-2022) на сайте вводится "военная цензура": будут удаляться все новые публикации (и анонсы старых) о происходящем конфликте и комментарии о нём.

И ещё. Если ПК не видит наш сайт - смените в настройках сети DNS на 8.8.8.8

 

Стихотворение дня

"Шторм"
© Гуппи

 
Реклама
Содержание
Поэзия
Проза
Песни
Другое
Сейчас на сайте
Всего: 167
Авторов: 0
Гостей: 167
Поиск по порталу
Проверка слова

http://gramota.ru/

Для печати Добавить в избранное

ПИГМАЛИОН ПРОДОЛЖЕНИЕ НА АНГЛИЙСКОМ ЯЗЫКЕ (Рассказ)

Автор: Leon
Another possibility ... ↓


Pygmalion
    
Author: SWALLOW

Prose

Pygmalion
author, Leonid Trigub
Co-author - SWALLOW

Pigmalion - in Greek mythology, a sculptor who creates a beautiful marble statue, and fell in love with his creation.
Content
1 Myth

Franz von Stuck "Pygmalion"
Pygmalion - in Greek mythology (1) sculptor who created a beautiful marble statue, and fell in love with his creation.
Pygmalion was a king of Cyprus, son of Bela and Anhinoi. Having fallen in love, Aphrodite, he carved out of marble statue of her and turned to the goddess with a prayer breathe in the cold statue zhizn.Tronutaya such love, enlivened Aphrodite statue, which became the wife of Pygmalion (2). This myth may be introduced into the literature Neanf of Cyzicus (3).
Gold Pigmalionovaya olive kept at Ghadir (4).
The great writer George Bernard Shaw who have used this myth, wrote a wonderful book "Pygmalion" and "My Fair Lady."
I was sitting at home, in normal circumstances, as always at the computer, all alone. Only a small window of my room in the yard barking my dog. It is the only creature in my life, with whom I could sometimes communicate. My many friends are virtual. They're like shadows of the ghosts of me and were very rarely called on the phone. My only friend was my computer, which performed a lot of my desires. I want to play a game of chess - please, latest news, books, music, any movie - no problem, please. Want recipes for cooking - please, and now in the kitchen smell delicious. There was nothing in nature, what would my computer does not know. He gathered a knowledge of the world and slowly tried to give them to me. There were great minds of the past, scientists, musicians and artists, astrologers and wizards, and even fortune-teller. But the psychic, live communication, to my great regret and my great sorrow, the computer did not give me. As always, I sat behind him. Was midnight and I glided aimlessly program. For some reason I started talking to him like this: "What we're both unhappy and lonely You and Me" and suddenly to my surprise the computer strange squeaked, as if weeping, and went out. The screen was dark-blue for a quite short time and then suddenly lit up again, some wonderful, bright flame and spoke to me a human voice. For me jolt. The voice was chest, female, beckoning to her, soothing, calling to the caresses of love, inspires confidence and hope.
"Hello, Leonid" - said the voice. You and I are very lonely. I want us both to help get rid of loneliness.
Write down my E-mail, which you will always find me. And click on the word in GOOGLE Pygmalion. And then in Mazilu Fireloks find the dating service. On the screen appeared the shadow of a naked and very beautiful girl and titles of its E-mail, which I quickly wrote it down. The computer went out, and the shadow of the girls had gone from the screen, came up to me and I felt her warm caress. I leaned back in otsepinenii, and when he came to himself he saw that the computer is running, and my hand clutching a piece of paper with some E-mail. I thought that as always dozed off, but still a long felt someone's presence and breathing together. Turn off the computer, I went to bed.
The other day I was again sitting at the computer, the arm got a piece of paper with the email address and I typed it. On the screen appeared postcard with a bunch of beautiful roses. It was a place for messages, taking advantage of this opportunity, I sent some of his early poems, heaven knows where, into the unknown, shrouded in a veil of impenetrable mystery unfulfilled and mysticism.
REMEMBER fragrance of lilacs
And acacia leaves.
LEG Virgin Sirens
Trample TENDER HERBS
It was there once
Where again lovely barn
FOR thatched hut
I kissed girl
Arts grass and mint flavored ...
Barking, STONE Foliage
Dress a girl crushed
SHAME hide in the bushes
It was there once
And now around SANDS
And forgotten UZH mint flavored
AND BREAST Wonderful TEAT

WHERE NOW YOU, that girl
The first time that to me ...
Sensually HERBS Pomian
EARLY TENDER SPRING

The sand here is no more SIRENE
NO Acacia foliage
Howl only evil siren
A rough Whispers Shadow HERBS

Rarely seen here girls
DRESS crushed them long ago
In a rough-STONE hut
HODITVSYAKOE Shit

It was there once
Where again lovely barn
FOR thatched hut
I kissed girl

****
I know you do not love me at all
Know, but like me a little YOU
You'll get me NETWORKS profligacy ruin
All in care about what happens

DO NOT feel sorry for me and throw Dump
DO NOT WANT TO BE VICTIM GAME
Give me in the face with wooden stick
In bleed faces of my Bugrov

Kick me, whip up ASAP
I will conquer anguish like a dog
Come on, start FASTER PERFORMANCE
PAIN SOUL painfully LONG BEARS

And left alone in this world
YOU'LL never forget
With annoyance SLYAGU somewhere in Tyre
WHERE forever curse YOURSELF

****

KNOW LATE, TOO LATE
I MET YOU
For too long, too long,
Came to me SPRING

Like a fairy tale as a fairy-tale
You came to me
Many times you
HOW LASKA Promise me

This meeting, this evening
WILL ALWAYS LIVE
Like a Daisy Stem
Keep thee
It happens, It happens
Centennial
The meeting, these meetings
Indenture
*****
Sending poems to wait, and suddenly some kind of mystic, incomprehensible to me, got the message that cite below.
May 13 snapped, including a computer and what is it? Who is it? What forces heard me? Perhaps this message again. The fact that the state was - well, just did not know what to do with himself (his brother worried about the problem). I feel bad it was, well, maybe five times in its long lived life. After reading the poem, though I have lived with you and feel all those moments, all the grass, all the dash. You have given me a moment in pink years. I adore you.
From your profile blew something irretrievably lost. You have lost something precious and priceless to you (sorry this is a view from the side). Or maybe you someone betrayed. I felt a moan your sostoyaniya.Ya you write, but my brain through all over again and again my situation.
Yes, even you are reading books about mysticism and witchcraft - this topic is very close to me what had happened.
I am now close to Odessa. On this site I recently. I immediately responded to you by postcard, then a letter, but it is not shipped (expired activation mail).
To say thank you to you - so little, that's nothing to say. You seem to have led me to my senses. You have revived me.
The online film. See your city Raanana I am close to you, walks around the city. I do not see castles in the air, enchanting beauty of buildings. There is a sense of stability, strength for centuries.
They went Street Ahuza. Perhaps a few steps away from you. And you feel it? Mentally, I drank a cup of coffee with you. Sorry, no time to talk, the screen was racing me farther and farther. Passing by the municipality to convey greetings Nahum Jofre. And then I got drunk on the scent of flowers.
Sorry, this time taking away from you?
And yet what power lies in the relations between people. But I somehow demeans singles. I'm only a month on it and write to me who neither laziness, I'm blocked. And suddenly you. I am so afraid that you do not write me.
What to live in this moment?
I am in Ukraine. You are in Israel. I'm waiting to hear from you, I'm excited. The verse that you sent me
It was there once
Where again lovely barn
FOR thatched hut
I kissed girl
I read maybe a hundred times, probably know it already by heart. I'm waiting, and you do not visit the site. And finally - one, second, third. But I read your letter, too, can not, they do not open (not paid, has not been activated email).
I thought: "Now I'll do it, but" CellPhones "insufficient amount of recharge must flee. And on the street - a terrible downpour. And I'm sending a letter to the service site with a request: "Please, tell me mail on one day." I felt I knew that at the edge of the Earth's beating me great feeling. But I forgot, I live in ХХ1 century, and my request, did not hear the cry of the soul ... any day ... then rule the world of business, money. While the world is controlled by something else, and I want to rule it, LOVE. Oh! How would things have changed.
And I read, finally, your line and know that you are simply too scared of losing me. You are puzzled why I can not answer. And when everything becomes clear you are offering them that the payment of all for me, but alas, there also sits a robot, he has his own program and he has no concern to the Galatians and Pygmalion.
You are now on the site and see my photos? Thank you for your kind words. I plan to be in Israel in August, but I'm afraid that we do not hold on until August.
I so want you to be close. Where did you Pygmalion? Agree G. Bernard Shaw, will live for centuries.
He left us a testament vneglasno, and very simple, interrupting the play and giving to humanity the right to think - and what will happen next? How will Eliza? And yet for many centuries the world will stir up this issue.
So I think what will happen to us?
I meet with your creativity in the literary site "Graphomania no" and understand what a big heart I met a man in his declining years. We write each other a lot of letters. You call me and then a minute later call again. I hear your voice again I read your poems.
WHY HAVE ME
Disturbed by pain
And again I was "circling" Pygmalion. Still, I think, selfishness Henry Higgins and his devotion to science will be defeated by the strongest feeling is love. 'Going off the road because of you I will not "- he says Elisa - it aloud, but at heart I think he has another. The experiment was completed and from "stone" he had made perfect. Yes, he repeated the fate of Pygmalion - the legendary king of Cyprus, but do not have to resuscitate her, you only need a little faceting correct ..
Aggrieved, already an hour passed, and Israel is silent, and my letters Leonid does not open, not reading.
Ask yourself the question: "How can this happen in the blink of an eye - such a surge, so happy and very, very afraid RAZCHAROVANY.

It takes many years and the city will see a woman in a halo of white hair, standing at the crossroads. She reached a trembling hand to a small bunch and quietly say the man: "Buy violets" and she did not know it ME. I am more than an hour from a distance looked at her and walked .... And at that moment I woke up.
And then all was well. Our conversations went on, she wrote to me: "My love, darling, I'm so glad that you started to work ... I woke up today from the" bird's market, "they sang so loudly - sparrows (do you remember Odessa sparrows?) Balcony half-open, a breeze shakes curtain ... the early-early morning ... and I immediately thought of you, whether you're awake? And who you wished a good morning, and who you kissed? Then I presented your study ... and found a creative mess. And the yard was heard: "Annie, open" - boomed man seen walking a dog came and forgot the keys and the door in our entrance closes (called a key).
You say you can really believe in virtual love and if so, the humanity on the threshold of great discovery. Yes ... just ХХ1 century, and in the distant future may be born interplanetary children. A
That's Pygmalion was needed only a piece of ivory, and with reverent love he created a statue of Galatians. No, not merely a piece of ivory, but was still a tender kiss, but such that Aphrodite took pity and revived Galatea. And why did not kiss me now, my Pygmalion? Do not you miss? Or watching erotica on other sites?
I wrote to her that I do not understand what is happening to me, my whole day thinking of you.
And she continued: "I understand your unbridled energy, but agreed to embrace the immense, impossible. A bit surprised by your answer on the work at several sites simultaneously. Yes, the virtual world away. I agree, it is to some extent, gives you energy and inspiration.
But I think you wasteful attitude to his own time, it is precious. You do not already belong to myself (if you can ignite and excite people's hearts). The world is waiting for your works, and perhaps your main masterpiece is yet to come.
But I was inspired and inspires her writing, but not the Internet. And she, feeling sorry for my time apologizing for so long, their letters. We have written to each other and for the convenience of communication, I invited and register it online My World. Asked her to insert your photo. She did it. And in my photo album on this site Swallow saw me with a woman in an embrace. Once again, going to the site, I saw that she had removed her photo and profile. My question is: "Why did you do?" She wrote: "And did you know". I thought and wrote that perhaps that other men do not stare. I do not guess. The explanation was this: "I'm going with this site. I hurt, very painful to look at that photo of you on the other. She hugs you like a consuming something "mine." Intellectually I understand that this is a photo, but the heart does not want to listen ... it is now - a large, open wound.
You're not just Pygmalion, but you still KAI.
I explained to her: "All this is nonsense. Do not look at this picture. Do I really need in life and on this site. Have pity on us both, so bring back your photo. On this site I can give you an interesting and useful information. And believe me, that my album I have long ceased to care about and do not pay attention to you.
And Kai, the last representative of race Brunei - Gee. When - the planet of Kai Brunis-2 was destroyed by His Divine Shadow and his people killed. Sam Kai and his five companions tried to fight with his divine shadow on the archaic cosmic little boats the Great War with insects. But five brave killed and Kai went to the ram control section of the precursor of a giant spaceship - the murderer of planets belonging to his shadow, and the wounded man fell into the hands of His Divine shadow. As punishment for trying to attack his shadow, which is fiercely hated the whole race Brunnen - Gee, the winners of races of insects in the Great War with the insects killed Kai, took his memory and his body was handed over biouchenym. And biouchenye made from Kaya decarbonise Divine Slayer, totally obedient to the will of His Shadow, devoid of will and memory. But after 2,000 years of coincidence has led to the fact that Kai met fugitives else Bellringer with GCB and stands Tweedle, stole Lexx - the most powerful weapon of destruction in the two universes. Kai, touching the floor, crushed by the brain of the Sacred Ancestor, got back his memory and the memory of all those whom His Divine Shadow destroyed, taking the memory. And now is the time of prophecy: "Divine Order will be destroyed the last of the Brunnen - Gee.
The role of Kai performed by Canadian actor Michael McManus, and zvestny by Atom Egoyan film "The role of the words", and played in such television series as "forever Knight" and the "Mystery of the adventures of Jules Verne.
Continue to receive: "Good morning, dear. I have a habit of waking up, just look out the window. Today I was taken with the beauty of summer. From my window you can see a beautiful view of the wide Ukrainian fields with rows of trees (these trees are called Ukraine-planting), and ahead of asphalt road that goes out of town right on the route Chisinau - the Poltava. Along the road on both sides - the trees in the dark-green leaves, and the field light - green. And all the other greens of various shades, like a virgin, not yet spoiled by the hot, summer sun.
You understand correctly, I'm thin-skinned, thin nature. Therefore, I have a hard life. And why - that is inscribed on the fate of my love married. If you want, I will tell you a little epizodik of my life, in size in ten years.
And you did this Kay, what you describe. You are the one Kai from simple fairy tale "Snow Queen", whose heart ice. But I think I hear the drops do ice melt?
More of her letters, I learned that she had a daughter - the fruit of her first love, the granddaughter - a student at Odessa University.
And she continues: "Generally a person's life is divided into stages. And we step on them, for these stages. Stages are not like Solzhenitsyn described in his trilogy "Ahipelag Gulag, but sometimes they are difficult.
Here in my life was a stage for a period ten years. My choice was, of course, married. As a fact - sorry, "women" before I had time to pick up my men, but I can easily snatch them (though at the time).
With him, we met in Moscow at the Symposium of Power. After the trip, we went home, I'm on the Baltic Sea - to Peter, he is in Yakutia on Baikal. And so it began: meetings and partings, aprons, terminals, calls, letters, theaters, forestry, airport, tears, flowers, wild sex, loss of sense of time and space. And so for ten years. But perhaps the distance played a role (I'm tired of waiting). There is only one parcel box of letters, which I later destroyed almost all (in a fit of despair and the ensuing separation). That's twenty years later, our friend the Internet has helped me and I found him, he deputy. Director Nyuringrinskoy TPP. But it does not bother me already.
And why I'm writing this? I guess I want you to pity me, and maybe envious. A friend said: "He took your ten years." And I say: "He gave me a happy ten years."
Time passed. I insisted on communicating the program Skype. She did not have webcams and microphones. She put off its installation. And even once wrote to me: "Please do not call me. I can not dialogue with you You say - you say, but I can only insert a word - no, yes, well. It turns out this way: either you do not know how to listen to the interlocutor, or I do not know how to build a dialogue. Iona off the phone. Do I need it was only virtual?
Then that - that we have slipped about money. And she asked: "How much do you want
And she asked: "How much do you want money? I'll give them to you, just in another form. But you're Pygmalion and do not want to take them.
I like it - once called the Swallow, as she her and stopped. Now she wanted to share with me every minute of his life. He writes: "My Glorious, put to boil eggs, but she was so absorbed MESSAGE to you that I forgot about them. I heard someone - then shoot, I thought that's flayer again shoot the dogs in the yard (not afraid of punishment). And then it dawned on ... in the kitchen, and they are already without a single drop of water, burning and with the noise burst.
I wrote her gentle words, but it was not enough. She once reproached me that only I Pygmalion could afford for our first telephone conversation to talk about my book "Treasures of Mithridates, on its publication. She waited for another story, she was waiting for me to kind inquiries to her, "Who are you? Where did in my life, how glad I am, etc. "
Is ALIVE she did not perceive. I thought. But, finally, she surrendered. We talked on Skype. I read in her eyes, she wanted to touch me.
The relationship continued, and the time has come to our meeting. Tomorrow it should fly. I tried to sleep a little longer to look fresh and awake, but slept restlessly.
And now she stands in the holy land of Israel. I see her, she goes down the escalator. She - poluevreyka. I'm full-blooded Jew. I am completely alone. I have no relatives. They were hanged, burned alive, raped, killed by fascists. I looked at her and I felt that coming to me "that - something intimate." We hugged and I thought: "But if I give her what she wants in this life and does it produce me too - the most".
Then came a moment, the much-dreamed I was she. Here we really, WE LIVE AND FEEL THE HEAT each other ... We kiss, without saying a word. Kiss again and again, and I felt that no one threw a dozen years. We tore each other's clothes (well, just like in erotic films). I see my Galatians naked Eve. She has a high chest of a large size. Surprisingly, at her age kept thin waist. And then I do not see anything - we merge in ecstasy. She has an amazing body odor, resembling that - somewhere between wormwood and mint. I told her about this in a moment of our respite. She corrected me: "The Ukrainian wormwood. Now my mind slipped on her body below and came to the intimate space. So I began to feel a energy and tension. She was not surprised, smiled and said: "Oh, what we are good again (to him)" and tenderly kissed him. We failed again in the raging sea of passion.
I opened the window. She asked for a drink. But before I bring her a glass of water, as she was there, drank a few sips. I'm looking forward to when to release her lips and then stared at them like a tick. Nearby stood a cabinet, I sat her down there, but it was uncomfortable. Then I sat down on his pedestal and put her on her knees to face him. I eagerly kissed her breasts, her nipples were filled and tickled my face. I did not remember, and she softly moaned with pleasure ...
Finally, we are hungry, got dressed and sat at the table. "For that I gave you the fate of his declining years?" - I asked. She replied simply, "Because you're good, because you Pygmalion". Then he laughed and joked: "It's sex on call.
Two years. We know each other, but it is more and more about what - that was sad. She missed her daughter and granddaughter.
And so they came to stay with us. I have not seen his SWALLOW this ever. It actually fluttered. She eagerly questioned all of their relatives about their city, its river detstva.V those moments I felt guilty in front of her mind thinking of what this online, why should this virtual.
The day of parting. The daughter and granddaughter were leaving. At SWALLOW was painful to watch. It seemed that she now podsoberet forces straighten wings and fly a thousand miles in a nest. And I realized that I'm not her Doda. And I realized that her dignity, courtesy and compassion to me last very long.
The sun was setting, summer, quiet in the evening we sat on the veranda of my house. She said: "I now have something to show you" and brought a piece of paper. I looked, it was verse.
How many times have turned a blind eye
Dropping into oblivion dreams
But a tear rolled gently
Heart pain pierced swords.
How many times have I prayed alone
On his knees in the empty darkness
Only dimly lit candle
Giving the icons in the darkness.
How many times I forgave the fate
Over the wanderings of the soul in the silence
I kept telling myself that go
But get away from yourself not for me.
How many times I vow,
What will not write to nowhere
Keep our secret with you
And forget it forever
"I never wrote poetry" - she said, but this is for you. I have read. We were silent. The silence is broken it, saying that the virtuality and reality - two very different and not all the virtual becomes real with no deposit. I sensed trouble - it goes, but what I (quite lonely, sick old man)? And I saw how hard it to do. I decided to help her, saying that she should not pity me, and sacrifice.
I stopped at this moment a virtual world?
Our eyes met, her eyes filled with tears. I rushed to her, hard - hugged and remembered it a trembling at the rest of life. And I, too, wept Pygmalion.
After a while we still separated.
And you thought would be different?
But then passed for two more years. All this time I have suffered immensely from its SWALLOW.
And he could forget it. And soon learned that she became well-known writer. Her novels struck readers, causing great public interest.
It was evening - a quiet, summer. And I thought, as it is similar to that distant, sad evening of my parting with the swallow. My thoughts were about her and the vicissitudes of fate. I trembled like a heart in anticipation of something - something strange and it is not mistaken. Bell rang, and I'm annoyed that somebody broke my memories, went to open the gate. I heard someone laugh, he was very similar to LASTOCHKIN, but I threw this idea. And he came closer, I was stunned - it was her, and beside her daughter and a young beauty - her granddaughter. I gasped with happiness and could not utter a word. But they were not needed.
We eagerly kissed each other, and she whispered: "I love you, my Pygmalion" and again kissed me, saying: "MY PIGMALIONISCHE"
End
From the co-author:
Work on "Pygmalion" is over. I insisted on a more realistic version of the ending - they parted. Leonid not agree. He wanted to hear the hymn of love and our parting he could not prevent. I knew it, and I liked it.
He suggested that the original version - to live our "Pygmalion" for another two years and the events unfolded so that I will need two full years to realize that I love him. I agreed. And we decided that now we must proceed to the revision, check the speech speed, etc. He offered to do it to me.
I started to work, but on the second page, I suddenly wanted to sleep, so much so that his head just fell down on the table. It was strange, because that night I slept well, as much as eight hours. It was three o'clock. I turned off the computer and lay down. Slept long. In the dream I saw my brother, he kept his cell and said something. I noticed that his phone in a gold casing.
Waking up, I immediately sat down at the computer. But, alas, not OPERA, not EXPLORER could not reflect the page. The computer I wrote: "Can not find the remote service. What or who I did not admit to our "Pygmalion"? My granddaughter would say: "It's just a failure of software. And I am lost in my thoughts and guesses. Someone so keeps our work? It is sincere, pure, born in the same breath, it flight of two souls, lighted Virtual love. And I thought, if the story originated VIRTUAL love, then she does the business further. Mysticism.
Or maybe "parade" in command of Aphrodite. And the thought came to me, I realized they do not want changes. They want to see the product in the original version of the virgin, with no thought about the words and moments. To say the words they can not, therefore, did their actions.
Therefore, turning to our readers, please, be favorable, and not hold it against me. We leave everything as it was, without a fair, where the roles have been

OH - Pygmalion, LEONID
SHE - GALATEYA - SWALLOW
Their friend COMPUTER

On your account - 2,915 points. Rate this product:
© SWALLOW, 2010
Certificate of publication: № 8471-155952/20100527
The readers work over the last week - 8, obtaining the review - 1.


Reviews:


Add a review
Sweetheart LASTOCHKA.SPASIBO you for the POVEST.PUST Pygmalion OPEN your way into the big world Creative ART.

Leon (27.05.2010 23:50 PM in)
Add remark


Add a review

Results 1 - 1 of 1
We read in the last week: Leon, Alex Kulak, Kulkov Michael
Creating a portal:
Lab Visual. "Around Ineta» © 2006 - 2010
Rules Portal | About the project
Advertising Tech. Support - vanyka@yandex.ru
YandeksDirektDat ad
הצע תרגום טוב יותר
תודה על הצעות התרגום שלך ל-Google Translate.
הצע תרגום טוב יותר:Pygmalion  And she asked: "How much do you want money? I'll give them to you, just in another form. But you're Pygmalion and do not want to take them. I like it - once called the Swallow, as she her and stopped. Now she wanted to share with me every minute of his life. He writes: "My Glorious, put to boil eggs, but she was so absorbed MESSAGE to you that I forgot about them. I heard someone - then shoot, I thought that's flayer again shoot the dogs in the yard (not afraid of punishment). And then it dawned on ... in the kitchen, and they are already without a single drop of water, burning and with the noise burst.  I wrote her gentle words, but it was not enough. She once reproached me that only I Pygmalion could afford for our first telephone conversation to talk about my book "Treasures of Mithridates, on its publication. She waited for another story, she was waiting for me to kind inquiries to her, "Who are you? Where did in my life, how glad I am, etc. "  Is ALIVE she did not perceive. I thought. But, finally, she surrendered. We talked on Skype. I read in her eyes, she wanted to touch me.  The relationship continued, and the time has come to our meeting. Tomorrow it should fly. I tried to sleep a little longer to look fresh and awake, but slept restlessly. And now she stands in the holy land of Israel. I see her, she goes down the escalator. She - poluevreyka. I'm full-blooded Jew. I am completely alone. I have no relatives. They were hanged, burned alive, raped, killed by fascists. I looked at her and I felt that coming to me "that - something intimate." We hugged and I thought: "But if I give her what she wants in this life and does it produce me too - the most".  Then came a moment, the much-dreamed I was she. Here we really, WE LIVE AND FEEL THE HEAT each other ... We kiss, without saying a word. Kiss again and again, and I felt that no one threw a dozen years. We tore each other's clothes (well, just like in erotic films). I see my Galatians naked Eve. She has a high chest of a large size. Surprisingly, at her age kept thin waist. And then I do not see anything - we merge in ecstasy. She has an amazing body odor, resembling that - somewhere between wormwood and mint. I told her about this in a moment of our respite. She corrected me: "The Ukrainian wormwood. Now my mind slipped on her body below and came to the intimate space. So I began to feel a energy and tension. She was not surprised, smiled and said: "Oh, what we are good again (to him)" and tenderly kissed him. We failed again in the raging sea of passion. I opened the window. She asked for a drink. But before I bring her a glass of water, as she was there, drank a few sips. I'm looking forward to when to release her lips and then stared at them like a tick. Nearby stood a cabinet, I sat her down there, but it was uncomfortable. Then I sat down on his pedestal and put her on her knees to face him. I eagerly kissed her breasts, her nipples were filled and tickled my face. I did not remember, and she softly moaned with pleasure ... Finally, we are hungry, got dressed and sat at the table. "For that I gave you the fate of his declining years?" - I asked. She replied simply, "Because you're good, because you Pygmalion". Then he laughed and joked: "It's sex on call.   Two years. We know each other, but it is more and more about what - that was sad. She missed her daughter and granddaughter. And so they came to stay with us. I have not seen his SWALLOW this ever. It actually fluttered. She eagerly questioned all of their relatives about their city, its river detstva.V those moments I felt guilty in front of her mind thinking of what this online, why should this virtual. The day of parting. The daughter and granddaughter were leaving. At SWALLOW was painful to watch. It seemed that she now podsoberet forces straighten wings and fly a thousand miles in a nest. And I realized that I'm not her Doda. And I realized that her dignity, courtesy and compassion to me last very long. The sun was setting, summer, quiet in the evening we sat on the veranda of my house. She said: "I now have something to show you" and brought a piece of paper. I looked, it was verse.  How many times have turned a blind eye Dropping into oblivion dreams But a tear rolled gently Heart pain pierced swords. How many times have I prayed alone On his knees in the empty darkness Only dimly lit candle Giving the icons in the darkness. How many times I forgave the fate Over the wanderings of the soul in the silence I kept telling myself that go But get away from yourself not for me. How many times I vow, What will not write to nowhere Keep our secret with you And forget it forever  "I never wrote poetry" - she said, but this is for you. I have read. We were silent. The silence is broken it, saying that the virtuality and reality - two very different and not all the virtual becomes real with no deposit. I sensed trouble - it goes, but what I (quite lonely, sick old man)? And I saw how hard it to do. I decided to help her, saying that she should not pity me, and sacrifice. I stopped at this moment a virtual world? Our eyes met, her eyes filled with tears. I rushed to her, hard - hugged and remembered it a trembling at the rest of life. And I, too, wept Pygmalion.  After a while we still separated. And you thought would be different?  But then passed for two more years. All this time I have suffered immensely from its SWALLOW. And he could forget it. And soon learned that she became well-known writer. Her novels struck readers, causing great public interest. It was evening - a quiet, summer. And I thought, as it is similar to that distant, sad evening of my parting with the swallow. My thoughts were about her and the vicissitudes of fate. I trembled like a heart in anticipation of something - something strange and it is not mistaken. Bell rang, and I'm annoyed that somebody broke my memories, went to open the gate. I heard someone laugh, he was very similar to LASTOCHKIN, but I threw this idea. And he came closer, I was stunned - it was her, and beside her daughter and a young beauty - her granddaughter. I gasped with happiness and could not utter a word. But they were not needed. We eagerly kissed each other, and she whispered: "I love you, my Pygmalion" and again kissed me, saying: "MY PIGMALIONISCHE"  End  From the co-author: Work on "Pygmalion" is over. I insisted on a more realistic version of the ending - they parted. Leonid not agree. He wanted to hear the hymn of love and our parting he could not prevent. I knew it, and I liked it. He suggested that the original version - to live our "Pygmalion" for another two years and the events unfolded so that I will need two full years to realize that I love him. I agreed. And we decided that now we must proceed to the revision, check the speech speed, etc. He offered to do it to me. I started to work, but on the second page, I suddenly wanted to sleep, so much so that his head just fell down on the table. It was strange, because that night I slept well, as much as eight hours. It was three o'clock. I turned off the computer and lay down. Slept long. In the dream I saw my brother, he kept his cell and said something. I noticed that his phone in a gold casing. Waking up, I immediately sat down at the computer. But, alas, not OPERA, not EXPLORER could not reflect the page. The computer I wrote: "Can not find the remote service. What or who I did not admit to our "Pygmalion"? My granddaughter would say: "It's just a failure of software. And I am lost in my thoughts and guesses. Someone so keeps our work? It is sincere, pure, born in the same breath, it flight of two souls, lighted Virtual love. And I thought, if the story originated VIRTUAL love, then she does the business further. Mysticism. Or maybe "parade" in command of Aphrodite. And the thought came to me, I realized they do not want changes. They want to see the product in the original version of the virgin, with no thought about the words and moments. To say the words they can not, therefore, did their actions. Therefore, turning to our readers, please, be favorable, and not hold it against me. We leave everything as it was, without a fair, where the roles have been  OH - Pygmalion, LEONID SHE - GALATEYA - SWALLOW Their friend COMPUTER  On your account - 2,915 points. Rate this product: © SWALLOW, 2010 Certificate of publication: № 8471-155952/20100527 The readers work over the last week - 8, obtaining the review - 1.     Reviews:   Add a review Sweetheart LASTOCHKA.SPASIBO you for the POVEST.PUST Pygmalion OPEN your way into the big world Creative ART.  Leon (27.05.2010 23:50 PM in) Add remark   Add a review  < End>>  Results 1 - 1 of 1 We read in the last week: Leon, Alex Kulak, Kulkov Michael Creating a portal: Lab Visual. "Around Ineta» © 2006 - 2010 Rules Portal | About the project Advertising Tech. Support - vanyka@yandex.ru YandeksDirektDat ad


© Leon, 28.05.2010 в 02:03
Свидетельство о публикации № 28052010020321-00166883
Читателей произведения за все время — 116, полученных рецензий — 0.

Оценки

Голосов еще нет

Рецензии


Это произведение рекомендуют