August 9 marks the 100th anniversary of the birth of Larissa Heniyush — Legends of the Belarusian poetry, a citizen of the BNR, the prisoner of the Gulag, and the Christian sacrificial love for free voices Zelva, Neman, Belarus, which is the whole of August sounds on the waves of "Freedom." Daily — Unknown photographer, unique record, and apocryphal stories from the life of the poet.
Yuri, Larissa and Vanya Heniyush. Prague, 1942
From the cozy Zelva in the Golden City of Prague with her husband Larissa Heniyush people leaving the country in 1937 as a citizen of Poland. Moreover, permission to leave the Polish government gave with one condition — in the "nationality" should stand record — "Polka".
Larissa Antonovna refused to comply with this requirement insane. As a result, the young family was able to rally just two years after the birth of her son Jyrki.
In 1939, the Polish state ceased to exist, and Heniyush remained stateless. When the Germans came to Prague, they only demanded that all nekarennyya residents banded together in the national organization. Thus arose the Prague Committee of self-help, in which Larissa Heniyush performed the duties of the treasurer.
After the Second World War, the hundreds of thousands of refugees from the Soviet Union under threat of forced return. According liberated Europe from the Nazis drove the Soviet repatryyatsyynyya mission and campaigned to return to the "communist paradise." In one of these missions, by the way, had served Writer Maxim Luzhanin. Having met in the refugee camp of his former colleague litabyadnanni "hill" Anton Adamovich, he managed to whisper back: "Do not go!". What apparently rescued more than a dozen lives.
Of particular interest to the Soviet MGB showed Geniush. In their strannopriimets House in Prague in the street Gezhmanova, 7stali come strange yet familiar with the West long pass, "greeting" fromMaxim Tank (With that, we note, Larissa Heniyush first seen in 1966).
We had to somehow escape. And the poet September 5, 1945 wrote a letter to then despair U.S. ambassador to Czechoslovakia Lawrence Stayngardu, in which, among other things:
"We have never been Soviet citizens, and I was informed that it is impossible to issue a warrant for our arrest. Yet in such cases, people are sometimes forced to take out to the Soviet Union, there fault and punished. Soviet agents have tried to forcibly break into my apartment. My family and I had to go into hiding with friends in order to avoid the horrors that cooked for me in Russia. Czechoslovak authorities can not do anything for our safety. I know that Soviet agents want to drag me to a concentration camp in Strašnice out as criminals and deported to the Soviet Union, where we are waiting for trouble, if not death. I apelyuyu to humanity and generosity of a citizen of the United States, I ask for help, ask to me and my family took custody of the authorities and the United States troops in Czechoslovakia. "
Ambassador approached the matter formally briefed on the situation calmed Prague Castle and Larissa Heniyush saying that you have nothing to fear.
"Who are you, stateless persons, to protect against advice?" — Asked Heniyush their familiar English. "Our defense — God," — replied Larissa Antonovna. "But we, the British, to protect God and the Queen of England" — dastsipnichav acquaintance.
Finally Vanya and Larisa Heniyush addressed to the Czechoslovak authorities with a request for citizenship and got it July 27, 1947 — exactly on the birthday of Larissa Antonovny (old style). The decision on granting citizenship noted that a citizen of Czechoslovakia also became a "minor son Heniyush Jiri, who was born 21 October 1935 in Zelva."
July 29, 1947 Larissa Heniyush received Czechoslovakian passport by filling in the council of state security profile through which we now know that the poet had a growth of 169 centimeters, hair — dark brown, and his eyes — blue-gray.
Unfortunately, the Czechoslovak citizenship did not protect and Vania Larissa Heniyush from the gulag. In less than a year, as the passports of them were selected, and on the above-cited application form a hand nervously inscribed: "deported from Czechoslovakia."
However, that's another story.
NOT bayonet and February convoy
made my face severe
and my soul ice.
I do not know their own pain.
From the heart adorvany son.
That's only at night, sometimes,
my soul disturbing one.
Sweat gently wipes
and raise his head again.
On our land are not counted
just such accidents sons.
People with tears spill
grief thatched roofs
stopped my once happy
Women's crisp laughter.
Yeah, I do not know how to laugh,
rays of joy could,
yes I can, as a strong man to fight
so that people could laugh!