автограф
     пускай с моею мордою
   печатных книжек нет,
  вот эта подпись гордая
есть мой автопортрет

Stepanakert
                   Saga

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рукописи не горят!.. ...в интернете ...   

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    days:

March 10.

"All we are saying is to give to peace a chance."

Sometime, somewhere we kept silent, and the chance was snatched by the war.
Today, it had its say.

In the morning the mother-in-law was the first to come from Underground. And she was right in criticizing me for putting no lids on the drinking-water pails.

So, I started for an early water-walk.

At the Club: A half-hour of pure literary talk with Lenic. Then, a medley talk with Rita.

When I came back home, barrage of GRAD bursts went pop somewhere out of the town.

Sahtik took it for phedayee PHEDAYEE —
     (Armenian borrowing from Greek) "freedom fighter".
shelling Shushi, and fearing Azeri retaliation, she grabbed Ahshaut and set off for Underground.

Soup for two, for the mother-in-law and me.

Sahtik, at her mother's suggestion, wrote a note to Orliana inviting her with the children to spend a couple of days in Underground near our flat, which is safer than theirs.

Being "Mr. Postman" I ran into Orliana at the Lower Circle, some sixty-meters from her place.

She was going to the uphill town to pay the last tribute to the deceased father-in-law of her brother-in-law.

<!--In Armenian there are specific terms to cover any degree or shade of kinsmanship; the said terms account even for the line and depth of interpersonal affinity.-->

On reading the note, Orliana shook her head and said "no".

These days wouldn't be too awful, intimated she, in light of phedayee PHEDAYEE —
     (Armenian borrowing from Greek) "freedom fighter".
storming of Shushi deferred for a month or so.
Besides, the tendency to settle this here conflict by peaceful means grew more and more prominent in the latest developments.

At that point a spray of GRAD missiles crashed in the very middle of town and put emphatic period to her piece.

She ran back—down, I went back—up the hill.

After the mother-in-law had baked breads, one more GRAD volley hit the town.

I went downtown with the breads.

Again, desolate streets echoing to separate blasts. When I neared the round square of Piatachok, a single shell blew up a tree some thirty meters from me.

Sashic was standing at the entrance door of their apartment block together with two other men. The Trinity was haloed with a sturdy spirit-stink.

'Here comes my bajanagh (wife's sister's husband)!' announced he my coming to his partners.

His finger was already clear of its dressing.

Then, I went to Orliana's. When my mission was over, and I started back, Valyo solicitously called after me to be careful.

Yoga.
Lonely supper.
Water-walk.

The heavy snowfall going on and on all this day and night looked like Destiny prompting me to use the chance and go out with the ax and kid-sledge to garner the GRAD-crashed tree in the Piatachok square.

The tin woodburner in Underground needs firewood.

I did three treks.

Now, at these small hours, would it be right to say,
"Good Night"?

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