Chapter Forty-Seven
Goodbye girl, farewell girl,
free your eyes from the sea,
now your road is from the tracks of the wind,
now there is no halt like me.
The thread was broken, the ferry disappeared,
our clocks went in different directions.
There were two words left unsaid by me:
I remember just one: “end”.
Clashes, wordless looks,
the mysterious nothing between us
now starts a new emptiness,
if the sea will roll up sleeves,
if the sea will run, and rushing
fill my eyes again,
is this death or another death
the reason of this death?
-Belgi
A story from Andrei Rainik, a classmate of Belgi Abutov:
In our class everyone was in love with a girl called Natasha. She was either a Karachai or she came from somewhere in the North Caucasus, but we didn’t understand that then, we s
