Oddly Poetic
This is a translation, by Bebel Fish of a Russian friends post:
I grew in the most usual city in the center of Siberia. Or not in [tsventre]. But accurately it is, where cold. Usual childhood, usual school. I was not the outstanding child. Is simple " [umnenkoy]" by girl. Parents about me so spoke: " [Lyuska] we have of [umnenkaya]." I did not love to read, learned average, so, [choby] was sufficient to finish school, and then institute. What still? I always loved infectiously to laugh loud, my bright painted ringlets of hair were developed overhead, and large hazel eyes began on- special, affectionately to shine. The charm, when I wanted to obtain a good estimation in [istitute], or on the work, frequently rescued me. Yes… Pope died by entirely young, but mom to her wage of doctor could not contain the daughter, whom it was desirable to appear well, and the disk libraries to resemble. It was desirable to live. Therefore I worked and learned. It was heavyish, but I managed. I although small increase, then by spirit strong. This my strong spirit constantly and rescued me at that time. That loved was also. Commonplace. Together with school. First sex. First quarrel. First love. Everything together. Each day. We all in no way could " [naestsya]" by each other. It was desirable to be held for the hands and to share peaces. The first year passed as on the cloud, friends forgot the numbers of our telephones, because no one was necessary to us. Any third immediately became excess. People this felt and disappeared from our life. But we did not note. At what moment the love does cease to bring happiness and it does begin to bring pain? How to feel this moment and to take care a feeling? When you is young - too many things press to you and interfere with clearly thinking. We quarrelled each day on several times. But to yield to other seemed [porazhaeniem] with Waterloo. Any step to the right or to the left, and there occurred the release button of sequential [prinitsipa]. In 19 years of so many things they prove to be fundamental. But to think about the fact that you wound that loved still you do not know how. I do think, I did love Jura Mountains too strongly, and can he me? Who now can know? We were together already for several years it was planned sequential New Year. Friends, large company. It arrived after me in its new machine. I was in beautiful small [tufelkakh] on the heels, leg in me as Cinderellas, [krooookhotnaya], it was sometimes even necessary to search for itself foot-wear into " Children's of [mire]". I village into the machine, entire such well dressed, dress searched for almost month. New Year - this always holiday, snowdrifts of snow on the streets, more domestic heat- and smelled fir tree. Jura Mountains somehow very strangely it was greeted with me and through the force smiled. But I sat entire such, glad, in the bag gift. On the eyes black pointers - she tried house, it derived, it is never skillful, but greatly it was desirable to be the today on- special by beautiful. It suddenly covered into some dark gateway, stopped machine. - Little-one. Little-one… What you beautiful today. - That did happen, [Yurochka]? They went sooner to the holiday. - Young fox, I do not can. I do not can more… I should say to you… -… - You do remember, we somehow did quarrel with you at the beginning of November and I did leave to go for a walk [druzmi]? I could only nod by head. - I then went with the friends and [poznakomlsya] with the girl… I did want to take vengeance upon you, you do understand? [Vobshchem], it [beremenna], [Lyus]… Beautiful pointers were spread by black spots on face. I could not speak. Jura Mountains it began to sob as child, hid face into its hands. - Transport me home. (by low heavy whisper) Jura Mountains it raised face from its hands - Transport me home, scum!!! - I already began to bawl not by my voice… continuation follows…