Стихотворения - [4]
Her enthusiasm for Russia and renewed faith in her poetry were closely connected with her encounter with Andrej Belyj, the pseudonym of Boris Nikolaevic Bugaev. Several poems are dedicated to B.N.B. and others can be readily identified with him. Here again, however, her youthful desires for a romance are shattered under the harsh reality of the middle aged poet. While Belyj undoubtedly promoted the publishing of her poems and reviews, his interest in her romantically never approached her all encompassing love.
One can trace the relationship from Berlin to Zossen, where Belyj lived during May and June of 1922, to Swinemunde where both would join the Russian community in this resort town. In a poem entitled “The 27th of October” (Belyj’s birthday was October 14 in the Old Style, October 27 on the New Style calendar) the poet expresses a willingness to sell anything, give anything to gain the affections of his love.
By year’s end Vera cries in her own room trying to find the strength to survive.
The third and longest selection of poems focuses on the “thread” of life and of poetry. Written in 1923 and 1924 the poems reflect the departure of her friends and close acquaintances from Berlin. There is no place to go, no one to love, nothing to say. Instead the poet turns to introspection, to memories, which become the sustaining element in her life. The Russian church service in Berlin, the singing of the choir, preserve the continuity of her life and her art. “Everything is so simple in God’s world” she writes, “there’s only life and death.” It is this simplicity which now becomes her goal in a life filled with complexity of emotion and desires. The spring of 1923, the indomitable spirit of youth, give rebirth to her poetic voice. She listens enviously to the words and rhythms of Marina Cvetaeva’s collection of poetry Remeslo (The Craft). Fascinated, just as had been Belyj, she reflects upon her own poetic craft and makes her own statement the value of the poet.
It is one more twist of fate that just as she was beginning to develop fully her own poetic skills, the literary community which had been her support group largely departed. Belyj, Xodasevit, Remizov, Baxrax, Nina Berberova, all went their separate ways in the fall of 1923. Novaja Russkaja Kniga ceased publishing. The holiday season of 1923 would again bring only anguished memories of former happiness. In the following year the poet would begin to write of Berlin, but it could still not compete with her birthplace.
Slowly even her dreams would come to an end. The river of memories ceased running. There is a growing resignation, a realization that there is no stopping the “flight of time.” Finally “There aren’t even memories any longer; Just sometimes once a month, or twice.” Nor was there anyone left with whom to share thoughts, to listen to her words. The last poem of the book speaks longingly, hopefully, but unsure of where and when we will meet again.
The voice was stilled, the writing of poems ceased. Having written almost 150 poems in some five years, Vera Lourie has only sporadically broken the silence. It would be ten years before two short poems would appear in print, and these are repetitions of the desire for a return to better times and happier places. A more significant contribution is made between 1935 and 1937 in a number of poems dedicated to A.V. Poznjakov. Once again strong emotion, love for another person, calls forth words, requires and demands on outlet in poetry that she could not express publicly. “I can’t come over and embrace you,” the poet complains as she reveals “I learned long ago to conceal all affection.”
Even this relationship mixes memory with imagination. The poet envisions her lover as a boy in Russia. Her vision is its own reward, and she is determined to hold onto it even if it not be accurate The final poem in the series sums up the tragedy which seemed inevitably to find the poet.