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(Created page with "{{Hide title}} {{Style P-Book|Truth about H. P. Blavatsky<ref>This article was publish during 1883 in Saint Petersburg weekly magazine ''Rebus'' (Желиховская В.П...") |
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Of all the invisible interlocutors that time, Pushkin declared himself the most. At the same time, I ask the reader not to draw a conclusion about our conviction that this invisible figure was a really deceased poet, whose ashes rest in the neighborhood of Rugodevo, in the district named “Svyatye Gory”. We have already expressed our opinion on how much you can trust the messages and statements of these interlocutors. But this does not in the least prevent us from saying that the names of great people were often announced at our séances; while some spoke very intelligently, scientifically and efficiently; others, despite their announcing names of famous people, chatted about such trifles that would do credit to any circus clown, but not to Socrates, Cicero and Martin Luther. And so, that evening Pushkin entertained us with his conversation. He was in a melancholy and gloomy mood and to our questions: why he was so sad? what he suffered from? what he would like? he answered with the following impromptu, which I wrote down, although it does not stand up to any literary criticism: | Of all the invisible interlocutors that time, Pushkin declared himself the most. At the same time, I ask the reader not to draw a conclusion about our conviction that this invisible figure was a really deceased poet, whose ashes rest in the neighborhood of Rugodevo, in the district named “Svyatye Gory”. We have already expressed our opinion on how much you can trust the messages and statements of these interlocutors. But this does not in the least prevent us from saying that the names of great people were often announced at our séances; while some spoke very intelligently, scientifically and efficiently; others, despite their announcing names of famous people, chatted about such trifles that would do credit to any circus clown, but not to Socrates, Cicero and Martin Luther. And so, that evening Pushkin entertained us with his conversation. He was in a melancholy and gloomy mood and to our questions: why he was so sad? what he suffered from? what he would like? he answered with the following impromptu, which I wrote down, although it does not stand up to any literary criticism: | ||
{{Style P- | {{Style P-Poem|poem=Why would, my friends, you like to know | ||
What my desires are or so? | What my desires are or so? | ||
The only desire’s in my breast: | The only desire’s in my breast: | ||
Well, in the lap of death to rest... | Well, in the lap of death to rest... | ||
The heaven’s closed anyway! | The heaven’s closed anyway! | ||
For on the earth I sinned each day. | For on the earth I sinned each day. | ||
And in the darkness should I stay. }} | And in the darkness should I stay. }} | ||