Verses Yuri Lakerbaia

memory of Yury Lakerbaia

Wine and stones Lakerbay
We opened a new verse.They
- trusted way
include the garden of the poet - in paradise.
Yes, the garden in which grow
verses is paradise - this is only the poet.
View other possible - it is a nice
Care of boredom.
about how trees are high,
A grass lush picturesque!But
- poetovy prayer:
They are embodied in the poems.

Alexander Baltin


Astamurovich Lakerbay Yuri was born in 1934 in the city of Ivanovo.Childhood and youth in Abkhazia in the homeland of his father.

While studying at the Minsk Institute of Physical Education, became a master of sports in fencing.

In 1967 he graduated from the Higher Courses for Scriptwriters and directors at the State Film Committee of the USSR.In his five feature films scripts supplied.

first book of poems was published in 1962.Author of many books of poems and articles in periodicals.

died in 2004.


unearthly sonorous string,
Otherworldly sweeter than honey

the moon in the desert will enter the house.
shall see stynuschy center,
dangle chain ...
Unable to start all over again,
will go along the crest of the steppe.
Finding a break at the end of the hills,
will come sapper platoon,
The country abandoned houses,
Deaf-mutes orphans.In the cellars
snake dreaming,
From growing grass roofs.
Neither floods nor guilt, -
So, where are the owners?
silent granite slab,
Language forgotten it.
And be clever to guess -
Who lived?
Why? ..
archive land, which is the use in it, Kohl
no soul alive?
May I be a bad prophet!Yes
will house residential!


available Bzyp famous turn.
heart you a guide: keep the rotation.There
intertwined roots boxwood
The white stone Yusharskih gate.

There is a lake - blue
framed green tops.This water
take you with him,
Like wine, - seal the jar.

Will you remember the mountain road,
You will always strive here.
If there were ever gods, -
It is their drinking water.


In Latin - wonderful speech!-
sharp sword - "gladiolus".
all metaphors it would be necessary to burn:
Truth in them one iota.

What looks like a tall flower, leaf
Form, or something,
In short sword smashing
gladiatorial will?

As if it liked it,
on poles along the road? ..
But what I mean!We're not Rome,
Our morals are not strict ...

so different - in denominations of penny -
straining his voice,
In past martyrs like,
How gladiolus sword!


drank strong wine Until the second dawn ...
Those girls of the inn -
Yes altars!

greenish and black -
Wonderful colors.
Pelagia from the inn
Is not the mother of Christ!
... calmed down forever
Outside carved fences
Bogomazov - masters.
No names, no dates!
Like hell,
Reduces layer canvas,
bright face of the Mother of Christ.
and stands over them day,
Soul amusing:

greenish and black ..


not tear his eyes from Fuji!
A producer, Mr. Yamoto,
Says pit crater -
This landfill, cemetery waste.

everywhere visible white cone,
Pit can only be seen from a helicopter.
In Yamoto head - like
Globe and eyes dull care.

He sighs: the island is small and cramped,
Motley shred broad ocean.Put
landfill in the sky
Lёm slop in the throat of the giant.

And Volcano return on
destination in the appointed hour filthy scum! ..

I look at the white glow
and silently.
Do not ask questions.


That's the way!
Turn ...
our "Volga" rustling for tar.
lunged forward
And on the edge of the road - to Athos!

contest inviting us,
He clicks her hoofs ringing ...
Hold, the driver, hold, -
I want to lose the foal.

For quiet Abkhaz strings,
sake of glorious names on the dagger.
For the past of this country,
always respected.


ever see again - and again speechless!
That's all, perhaps, than we are united:
«Vision Youth Bartholomew» -
Native land autumn hills.Then there

Trinity Lavra,
And Mamaia gather army ...
All tablets capital letters -
Hills autumn sadness and grace.

Support our, our illumined,
salvation from prison and from scrip,
The boy bright-eyed vision -
Native land autumn hills.

Ray sunset call to Lozin,
Dohnёt warm as winter approaches -
and pass without a will to
son in gentle hills speckled grass.