Tatyana Snezhina. poems about love - poems about love - poems - catalog of articles - love without conditions

Last year he also made his debut at the Variety Theater in a concert by V. Strukov. Gradually she began to gain experience on stage. I had to combine this with studying at the institute, so my first audience was night discos and clubs. She gave her first interviews on the radio. Of course, if it weren’t for the support of my family, brother, friends, and studio staff, I probably wouldn’t have been able to overcome the first difficulties on the way to my dream, the dream of helping people “remember with me” that happiness is nearby.

Now I continue to work, combining this with the need to graduate from college. I hope to release my first album, despite the complexity of such a thing as show business. But the recording of the second one is already in the project. After all, over the years of creativity, I have accumulated about two hundred songs that are waiting for their listeners. And life goes on as usual, new impressions, new thoughts, new words that you need to hear and try to understand. And the main thing is to have a dream. Of course, you still have to work and work, learn a lot, overcome a lot, without this you cannot, but as long as you have a dream in your soul, a light in the distance and friends at your shoulder, you can walk through fire and not get burned, swim across the ocean and not drown.

LYRICS AND FATE OF TATYANA SNEZHINA

A FEW DAYS OF ONE LIFE

Vadim Pechenkin

IN THAT DAY…

The chocolate melted with warm bliss in my mouth, my lips, sticking, left its frozen traces on the cool surface of the glass of the balcony door. Looking at the delicious patterns... from the unexpected generosity of the father who gave the candies, they seemed even sweeter and tastier. Looking through the round prints of my lips and through the lilac air of the evening at the ongoing construction of the house opposite, I felt how sadness was gradually replacing joy - “my mother was taken away by uncles in white coats - doctors”... The glass blew more and more cold, and melancholy, melancholy cold , squeezed my little heart - the heart of a seven-year-old boy. By the evening, either because the twilight was falling on the city, torn apart with a crash by the flashes of the welding machines of the builders, or because I was left alone in the cooling apartment and my mother and father were not around, anxiety was added to the sadness. Why, why did they take my mother away, how was she doing in the hospital? When my eyes began to fill with lead at night, my father came and said that my mother was already better and that in the near future, because I behaved well and was a real man today, we would go to her.

That day I couldn’t, well, I just couldn’t understand why we got up so early... And dad didn’t go to work. Dad was happy about something. Maybe he is happy that he will buy me a new, long-promised toy - a large tractor with a huge red gas tank at the back. Barely hiding my joy at this thought, I try to prove to my father that I am already an adult and, despite my just turned seven years old, I can not only get dressed quickly, but also clean my shoes.

Valery Pechenkin. Tatyana's future father. 1959

Tatiana. 1962 This year they will meet

Wedding of Valery and Tatiana. 1963

While my father, smiling at something, looked into the distance on the balcony and puffed on a cigarette, which was extremely rare in my presence and therefore added even more mystery to the situation, I diligently rubbed my boots with a brush, spitting on the already shiny skin, as they did in films.

Already on the bus, when he was taking us, shaking us like inanimate things, along the old and familiar route to the center, where there were recreation parks, my grandmother lived, and most importantly, there was a store filled with things that all the children on the planet dreamed of - toys, globes , bicycles... Already on the bus, my father said in a whisper in his ear, pricking him a little with his stiff stubble:

A surprise awaits you...

My heart jumped joyfully. The boy from the neighboring yard will die of envy and will no longer wonder about bringing his big truck to us. A tractor is a tractor, it's not even a truck. He is strong and, if he wants, he will crush all the trucks with his tracks. That's what my dad, the strongest and kindest in the world, told me.

“We bought you a little sister,” my father whispered in my ear without hiding his happiness and such strong, unearthly light pride.

Little sister?! I tried to be strong, like Soviet soldiers from Soviet films, and “not a single muscle moved on my face.” But treacherous tears poured out of my eyes in hot streams. They flowed down my cheeks, I couldn’t do anything, my father looked at me in confusion, not understanding what had happened. He even asked, “Did a bee bite you?” But I was unable to answer, realizing that as soon as I opened my mouth, I would turn into a crybaby, a crybaby girl... A girl! These thoughts filled my entire consciousness. All the kids in the yard will laugh at me! Brought the girl home! Am I going to have to play with her too?!

What about the tractor? How is he? I decided, before it was too late, to return the situation to its place. Maybe dad just forgot what I want?

Dad, I don't need a sister. I want a tractor. Tractor…

Alone at home. Vadim. May 1972

I wanted a tractor. Big, toy-like, but made of real metal and... and with a red gas tank. I, barely containing my offense, whispered to my father: “What about the tractor? I wanted a tractor...” I spoke the last words in a whisper, realizing their hopelessness - I knew that dad didn’t have enough money for two gifts.

For some reason, laughing, the father squatted down and, gently hugging him, pressed him to him. I began to calm down, sobbing, feeling the familiar smell of my father, his cigarettes, and the warmth of strong hands. Eh... Okay... Let it be a little sister...

An hour later, when we reached the May 1st Recreation Park, I spent all my boyish tears, and my father spent all his arguments and kind words for his heir. Therefore, we walked along the hot Leninskaya Street in silence. They walked as if on a mission, silently and with serious faces. They walked the way they walk when it is impossible not to walk. At some point, my father tugged me lightly by the arm, stopping me in the middle of the street. Raising his head, he began to look at the windows opposite and for some reason called for my mother. Or rather, he began asking the women at these windows to call Tatyana. I was also interested, I looked at these women, for some reason they were all standing at the windows, wearing dressing gowns and headscarves and looking out onto the street. Although, soon I got tired of it, and I began to look at how the breeze was dragging the first poplar fluff along the sidewalk, and on the cinema posters there was a poster - a bearded man with a pistol. New spy movie!!! But then my father pulled me by the hand again, only stronger, and said, without taking his eyes off the windows of the house opposite:

Yes! And that's what the tractor cost? Small, small... And black, like coals... no, like two stars in the black Ukrainian sky. And I realized that I was no longer upset... the eyes were beautiful, the eyes of my sister. I saw my mother, she was smiling, and I love my mother so much. For some reason I waved my hand at her, and in response, bursting into laughter, several women, looking sideways at my handsome dad, waved at me. Then mom disappeared through the window, and dad and I went to the Park of Culture and Recreation. They drank soda with syrup, driving bees away from the glass, ate pies with jam and rode on carousels. Perhaps I don’t need a tractor, now I have a better one - a sister. And let the neighbor’s boy play with his truck, he’s still small, he won’t be 7 years old until the fall.

On that day, a fine day of the Ukrainian spring, May 14, 1972, in the city of Lugansk, a second child was born in the family of senior lieutenant of the Soviet army Valery Pechenkin and his wife, a technologist at a local plant, Tatyana, and they named her Tanya. This is how a talented poetess and composer was born, who later became known to everyone as Tatyana Snezhina.

Tatiana Snezhina

Tatyana's real name is Pechenkina.

Born in Ukraine, into a military family. At the age of three months, with her parents, due to her father’s line of work, she went to live in Kamchatka. She studied at the music school and secondary school No. 4 named after. L. N. Tolstoy. In 1982, she and her family moved to live in Moscow. She studied at school No. 874, was a social activist and a member of the school drama club. She entered the 2nd Moscow Medical Institute (MOGMI). Since 1994, due to her father’s business trip, she lived with her parents in Novosibirsk. She entered and studied at the Novosibirsk Medical Institute.

She began writing music and poetry during her school years. She drew and sang. The first success was informal - homemade “music albums” recorded at home were distributed among Moscow students, and then Novosibirsk students. The same fate awaited the poems and prose typed by the author. In 1994, T. Snezhina recorded phonograms of 22 original songs from her first album, “Remember with Me,” in the KiS-S studio in Moscow. In the same year, she made her debut at the Variety Theater in Moscow, and the first program about her work was broadcast on Radio Russia. In Novosibirsk he wins several song competitions in the city and region. While looking for ways to release her solo album and record new songs in Novosibirsk, she met Sergei Bugaev, a former Komsomol worker who contributed greatly to the development of underground rock music in the 1980s. Since the early 1990s, the director of the youth association “Studio-8” tried to promote “pop music with a human face,” which Tatyana Snezhina joined. In addition to the creative ones, close personal relationships were also established between the young people; in May 1995, Tatyana was proposed to marry her, and their wedding was supposed to take place in the fall.

In August 1995, Tatyana and Sergei were engaged, and their wedding was supposed to take place a month later. Snezhina’s album was recorded at Studio-8, the release of which was planned for the same fall. On August 18, 1995, a presentation of a new production project took place, at which Tatyana performed two of her own romances, “My Star” and “If I Die Before Time,” with the guitar.

If I die before my time,
Let the white swans carry me away
Far, far away, to an unknown land,
High, high, into the bright sky...
- Tatyana Snezhina

On August 19, 1995, Bugaev borrowed a Nissan minibus from friends and went with his friends to the Altai Mountains to buy honey and sea buckthorn oil. He took Tatyana with him. Two days later, on August 21, 1995, on the way back, at the 106th kilometer of the Cherepanovskaya highway Barnaul-Novosibirsk, a Nissan minibus collided with a MAZ truck. As a result of this traffic accident, all six passengers of the minibus died without regaining consciousness: singer Tatyana Snezhina, director of the Pioneer MCC Sergei Bugaev, candidate of sciences Shamil Faizrakhmanov, director of the Mastervet pharmacy Igor Golovin, his wife, doctor Irina Golovina and their five-year-old son Vladik Golovin. There are two main versions of the disaster. According to one of them, Nissan went to overtake and, due to the right-hand steering wheel, did not notice a truck rushing towards it (that day one of the punctured wheels was replaced with a spare wheel). According to another version, the MAZ itself suddenly braked sharply, and its trailer skidded into the oncoming lane (it had rained shortly before the accident). Initially, T. Snezhina was buried in Novosibirsk at the Zaeltsovskoye cemetery, later the remains were transferred to Moscow to the Troekurovskoye cemetery.


Lugansk. Monument to T. Snezhina

How can I forget you?

Oh, how could I forget you?
After all, we won’t be together anymore.
But memory is a thin string,
You touch it a little and it’s sonorous.

Oh, how can I forget you?
The candle will melt and not live.
Don't see a proud face
That you will be proud to the end.

No need to touch the violin again,
She is touched with blood by the bow,
And one string is broken,
Three left and I'm alone.

But how can I forget you?
How can I kill this memory...
1990

DON'T FORGET LOVE

It's dark outside the window in my house,
Someone is making noise behind the wall.
Something has moved into my house,
Someone is standing behind you.

I won’t guess who you are and what you are!
I'll just leave my house
I'll be out of the house I'll continue
Entries in the volume of life.

I’ll stand up while no one sees,
I'll start getting ready for the road.
I'll take my shoes, love and coat with me,
I'll leave the worry at home.

There is nothing to do with anxiety on the way,
Let this Someone live with her.
When there is no anxiety, it's a little easier to walk
Where planes don't fly.

No one knows the value of the luggage,
Although it's easy to guess,
Like shoes for a holiday, but a coat for times of trouble.
Love? It's impossible without her!

I'm running from someone, I'm saving love,
I wrap her in my coat and hide her!
So that she doesn't freeze on the other side,
Still, like a kitten, blind.

And when it gets warmer, love will bloom.
I'll wear shoes for the holiday,
And happiness will undoubtedly come to me,
And difficulty will change for him.

But life didn’t teach me to push.
I'll throw on my coat and move on,
After all, to be afraid of life means not to live.
And life does not accept evil falsehood.

The shoes were worn out, the coat was torn,
And it seems like I’m about to die.
The whole sky roars like a mountain stream,
Like a hymn of heavenly powers.

But what I saved day by day,
The love that I carried with me,
It pulls me out of the evil fire
With its enormous strength!

And if your blood boils in your veins,
Run with me as best you can.
But, most importantly, don’t forget Love!
She embodied it all!
1988, Moscow

ROSE


A rose suddenly grew by itself.
Tender and white, like a cloud in the sky,
One among the grasses where only clover grows.

Love seemed to her like that crazy happiness,
What was hidden for a long time in the azure sky,
Like a sweet fruit, gently warmed by the sun,
Caressed by the wind and sung by the bird.

The nightingale sang nightly serenades to her,
Every night he declared his love to her,
But the rose rejected the nightingale's love,
And he took the thorns and stuck them into himself!

But how could a nightingale trust a rose?
When I waited so much and cherished it in my dreams
Another true and bright love,
By the sun soaring in a happy distance.

So the summer flew by and autumn poured in
Ask a stream of seething rains into the sky,
And the torrent of rain broke the fragile frame
And gave a rose to the cruel winds.

And the rain flew up into the sky like petals
And soon he returned to the ground with snow.
Love turned out to be that crazy happiness,
What remained in the azure sky.

In a clear clearing, where dreams basked,
Once upon a time a rose suddenly appeared,
Tender and white, like a cloud in the sky,
Since then, only clover grows among the grasses...

November 1992, Novosibirsk

WE ARE NO LONGER

What a pity, but we can no longer be together,
None of us, believe me, is to blame,
That everything went away with that autumn rain
And that winter has come to earth again.




The last time the autumn rain fell,
And feeling sad, the last leaf fell.
And only overnight winter drove away
The last cry of the last flock of birds.

Once again the titmouse will fly away
From my hands behind a flock of cranes,
And if God forgives this time too,
Then maybe I'll meet her again.

We are no longer in the land of love and happiness.
None of us has the power to stop the dawn.
Our way back... It is covered with snow
And divided between us with tears in our eyes.

Why do you need the last words?
When you're already standing at the door,
And the cloak is on, and the blue eyes
They are no longer the same, and now you are silent.

The eyes in which I lived are silent,
As before, I will no longer be reflected in them,
But if words are so important to you,
Then you go, and I’ll tell them after you.

We are no longer in the land of love and happiness.
None of us has the power to stop the dawn.
Our way back... It is covered with snow
And divided between us with tears in our eyes.

It's all just a dream and that's all it was.
Unknown forces did everything wrong.
The one who keeps love and our dreams
In heaven, in the stars, he will understand and forgive everything.

But we are no longer in the land of love and happiness.
None of us has the power to stop the dawn.
Our way back... It is covered with snow
And divided between us with tears in our eyes.

What a pity, but we will never be close again.
We'll never go back there again
Where we were so happy.

Sadness paints on the wall
In the snow, in the sky, on the window.
I paint your image on the wall
And the look that seems to be in the window again.
I'll draw just for you
Plains, mountains, rivers and seas.
Let sadness pass by
The world in which you and I are.
1990

SAD SAD...

Sadness, bottomless melancholy,
Life is foggy, love is homeless.
An abyss of darkness with a dim ray.
The dust of the roads and the light of dawn.
A kite soars over the mountain.
There is smoke above the hut.
There is a tower in the dense forest.
The path is wide and far.
Sadness, bottomless melancholy -
I saw the engagement ring in a dream.
Life is foggy, love is homeless -
The wedding music is not crying for me.
White wedding dress
It doesn’t suit me, they say.
I'll walk down the aisle alone,
And behind me is the homewrecker fate.
May 29, 1991

What's wrong with them, please explain?
The world opened up to them differently.
They met late
It couldn't have been otherwise.
And love burned their hearts,
Sparing no effort and urine,
But they had love
Such that for others it is vicious.
Loudly the world was against them,
The world laughed at love.
Tried to poison them
Evil disbelief in the sacred.
And they, trying to stop loving,
They only become more drawn to each other.
Their hearts cannot be separated
Hands curled gently over them.
He took very good care of her,
And She valued Him.
Holding hands they
They went to the eternal sky...
They met late
It couldn’t have been otherwise...
1989

You will come to me from this distant star,
Descending the stairs of the moonlight.
I know it will happen! And every night
In any weather, stay away from the window.
And every night, a star just rises
I direct my soul there,
Where her warm light flickers clearly,
Where, as they tell me, you are not at all.
But my heart beats for me differently,
And your heart shines like a star for me.
I know I will meet you, but where and when?
The star is silent and twinkles with love.
Oh how I wish I could reach this star
Ride off on a starry winged horse,
Sit down to rest on the Milky Way,
Then we could find each other.
Oh, where are you, my love? From a distant star
See me in this dark window,
Find me on the vast Earth,
Say that you exist, thereby giving me strength.
May 2, 1990

I CLOSE THE BIBLE OF MY LOVE

You will never see my tears
You can't touch wet eyelashes with your lips,
You will never hurt me
Crossing out what was not with us.
Where and with whom you are will soon become unimportant,
I have to fight this pain.
Never in the darkness of your wet eyes
I won't allow myself to fall in love.
Oh, why did I dream of meeting?
I knew it was an empty idea.
What was that sweet evening for?
Where did you pass and didn't notice me?
I close the bible of my love.
It may not be read, but I must,
Gotta believe that I couldn't
Light a fire that burns to the ground.
I have to believe that I won't find it
My fallen star from heaven.
I must close my eyes and squeeze my heart,
Run as far away from love as possible,
And put the bible of your love
On the wings of a flying dream...
July 11, 1993

I WILL COME FOR YOU IN YOUR DREAM

I'll come for you in a dream

I'll take you from there

And I'm alone without you
I'm waiting for the rain at the window.
Like the sixth day of October
I'm waiting for you from the rain.
Extend your palms to me
On the verge of sleep, on the verge of pain.
Take me from here to you,
I don't want to live here without a miracle.
I'm here alone without you
And at the window I wait for the rain.
Like the sixth day of October
I'm waiting for you from the rain.
I can be here with you.
Merge my brown gaze with yours.
I can touch your hand
But to return to the earthly world alone.
I'm alone again without you
And at the window I wait for the rain.
Like the sixth day of October
I'm waiting for you from the rain.
I'll come for you in a dream
In a wonderland that doesn't exist.
I'll take you from there
But as soon as I wake up, the miracle will disappear.
December 3, 1992

Your words cut my heart so painfully,
Why do you say them out loud?
After all, we already meet less often,
And I’m already one of your friends.
My beloved, you are a modern guy,
And I still live in the Middle Ages.
When that loving couple had love,
Then, lovingly, they carried the woman in their arms.
And you insist that nowadays we need something simpler,
That I myself must understand without words
What you want from me at this moment,
And I must accept your offer without words.
Write my name on a notepad,
My phone will join the number of others,
And after me Lena and Marina
They will continue the list of your Aphrodites.
Someday you'll turn the page
And the empty sheet, perhaps, will sober up,
But you can't go back to the past...
May 2, 1991

Forgetting is not possible.
Loving is not destiny.
Not remembering is a sin.
But remembering is a problem.
Sad essence
Happy days
There's pressure on my chest
More and more pain...
August 1991

YOUR LETTERS...

"Lines about us, dressed in a shroud,
They come to life again in my heart."

When worries give up
And there is no point in dreaming about anything anymore,
The sadness of a long separation passes,
When I sit down to read your letters.

And the memory that has gone to my house will return,
And even if it’s not for long, it will be spring.
And the sleeping heart, shuddering, will begin to beat.
And your hands will warm up with a line of writing.

Your letters are a quiet haven,


All life floats on white pages,
Drawing your forgotten portrait for me.
And it seems to me that miracles don’t happen,
When there is no letter from you for a long time.

The years fly by like autumn leaves,
Laying down with a colored blanket as a keepsake.
And with every page of life read
I love reading your letters more and more.

Your letters are a quiet haven,
Where do I run from separation and tears...
The white envelope, like a sail, carries away
In the distant gray of wasted years.

Only now I'm counting the years
Running away from them into a white envelope,
I light a thin thread of a candle,
Like a beacon from where we no longer exist.

Your letters are a quiet haven,
Where do I run from separation and tears...
The white envelope, like a sail, carries away
In the distant gray of wasted years.

Your letters, fragile miracle...

I JUST LOVE LIFE

It's raining again
And stands like a solid wall,
So we won’t even be able to see
What's wrong with you and what's wrong with me.
I love watching the rain
Because you can't see tears in the rain.
I love him and well
I'm full of hopes and dreams.
I love giving carnations
Because there are no thorns on them.
I love to give, sorry,
Joy to all without further ado.
I love looking at the sky
After all, there are so many stars in the sky,
I like to feed the birds bread
And watch them fly.
I like to stay awake at night
Because the whole world is sleeping.
I love being with candles
When the city is covered in snow.
I love everything because
I just love life.
I love life for some reason
I catch it every moment.
And now the rain is pouring down again
And it stands like a solid wall.
Do you know why it's long?
Because you are with me.
1988

I HAVE KNOWN YOU FOR A YEAR ALREADY

I've known you for a year now,
The second one went anyway.
I'm still wandering around the house,
But I don’t have the strength to come to you.
I know you. What can we do?
I whisper your name in my sleep.
My soul cannot be changed,
On the wings of my heart, I mentally fly to you.

My friend, do you suffer in love?
Forgive me that this happened
That the sun of happiness has set,
Leave me alone!
I turned out to be an evil cat
Having warmed up, she purred affectionately.
I was maliciously silent about the secret,
And now it’s dark in the window.
Under the soft fluffy fur
There was a sharp claw lurking,
But who could have known that this would happen?
Shouldn’t I be looking for a sip of poison?!
1989

You were only there for a moment
And suddenly he disappeared, as if he had never been.
After all, you came from nothing,
And you also sunk into nothing.
At that moment you were the one for me
About whom I dreamed days and nights.
And suddenly he immediately became nothing,
You really strived for this.
And you don't have to call anymore
Don't believe that we were together.
You can forget about me
Hearts are still cold.
May 1990

MUSICIAN

The creaky old cart is tired
Night was creeping into a frozen sunset...
And where the strip of light remained,
The musician appeared like a ghost.

He was sent to me by a distant light,
A combination of mysterious stars,
He sang in a low voice
Me about what awaits me next.

Musician until dawn
Sang this song to me.
I forgot my troubles.
I didn’t know what I would find,
And I didn’t look anymore
I'm on the way back.

We rode side by side in the cart of the night,
The team of stars was driven by the winds,
I was warmed by a gentle gaze
And the melody of dreams until the morning.

And throwing his jacket over my shoulders,
This ghost quietly told me:
"Sing with me and you will feel better,
I only saved myself with song."

Musician until dawn
Sang this song to me.
I forgot my troubles.
I didn’t know what I would find,
But I wasn’t looking anymore
I'm on the way back.

The musician was the embodiment of fate,
The unsteady life of my silhouette.
He was sent to me as salvation,
Like a forgotten poet rhyming.

He resurrected me from oblivion.
He gave me back my soul and love.
The musician became my inspiration
And I know that I will meet him again.

Musician until dawn
Sing me this song.
I will forget my troubles.
I don't know what I'll find
But I'll lose it forever
I'm on the way back.
1994

CALL ME WITH YOU

Again from me the wind of evil changes
It takes you away
Without leaving me even a shadow in return,
And he won't ask
Maybe I want to fly away with you
Yellow autumn leaves,
A bird behind a blue dream.

Call me with you,
I'll get through the bad nights
I'll go after you
Whatever the path prophesies for me.
I'll come where you are
Draw the sun in the sky
Where are the broken dreams
They regain the power of heights.

How many years have I been looking for you?
In the crowd of passers-by.
I thought you'd be with me forever,
But you're leaving.
Now you won't recognize me in the crowd,
Only, as before, loving,
I'm letting you go.

Call me with you,
I'll get through the bad nights
I'll go after you
Whatever the path prophesies for me.
I'll come where you are
Draw the sun in the sky
Where are the broken dreams
They regain the power of heights.

Every time night falls
To the sleeping city,
I'm running away from the sleepless house
In sadness and cold.
I'm looking for you among faceless dreams,
But at the door of a new day
I'm going again without you.

Call me with you,
I'll get through the bad nights
I'll go after you
Whatever the path prophesies for me.
I'll come where you are
Draw the sun in the sky
Where are the broken dreams
They regain the power of heights.

In the spring, I dreamed of happiness.
I dreamed and disappeared in transparent silence.
I happily spun around with him lightly,
But happiness cannot be kept on a tight leash.

In my dreams in the spring you were often with me,
He loved me and was himself.
But the dream passed, only spring remained.
Spring will leave - I will be left alone...
1988, Moscow

Forgive me, my gentle friend

Forgive me, my gentle friend.
Sorry for the pain. For the cold hands,
For the glance wandering in the crowd,
After all, it was given to you.

Sorry for not being able to
Go through the storm and fog
And what I unwittingly caused
There are so many wounds in your soul.

Forgive me, my strong, gentle beast,
That I, having accepted your love,
I closed the door in my soul,
Tormenting you again and again.

Sorry, my faithful talisman,
That you keep me safe,
And I put you in my pocket,
Scratching with a fingernail shamelessly.

Forgive me, my warm ray of light,
That I'm chilled in the wind,
I could have been warmed by you,
And I let the fire warm my hands.

Forgive me, my scarlet sail,
That I stepped into your shadow,
She swam and, without even repenting,
It broke through the bottom of the ship.

Forgive me for looking
Another happiness - how funny,
How stupid this is! I knew
That there is only one Sun in the sky!
1995

Winter

Under a white blanket
In the silks of cold January
My love is tired of flying
And sleeps in snowy regions.

And you won't touch my soul,
Don't you dare - I'm not yours anymore.
You will bury your happiness in the snow,
Trying to get him back is in vain.

Sadness is the last tear,
Having fallen from my spring eyes,
To you like a cold snowflake
It will fly into the window more than once.
Winter will spin you around, spin you around,
The whirlwind of an icy blizzard will enchant you.

And the soul froze, and the words were out of place...
Thoughts in a swarm carry consciousness to hell.
Something was wrong, nothing can be returned,
And the torn sail calls on a strange path...

And love is not love, and a dream is not a dream,
And the road with flowers turned out to be wrong...
Behind the fog of fate, behind the pitch darkness
The wind of strange hopes argues with me again.

It will be sucked in and drowned by the swamp darkness,
And the arrow breaks at the target...

I WILL NOT GET MORE SICK

It probably won't hurt me any more.


It won't get harder for me, it won't,
I won't go after you.
Maybe my heart will stop hurting,
When you give him peace again.

I won't, of course I won't,
It's bitter to cry and hide your tears.
I will forget, I will forget instantly,
And I won't remember you.

What was has passed and floated away.
Nothing can be fixed now.
I've cooled down, now I've cooled down.
And forget how to knock on that door.

It was painful to live like that in anticipation
Rare meetings and so frequent separations.
It was painful to run to a date,
To feel the coldness of your hands.

And now it won't hurt me anymore
If you slam the door and leave.
Maybe I'll even breathe a sigh of relief
Only you are unlikely to understand this.

THE SOUL IS LIKE A VIOLIN

Sometimes it’s hard for the soul to pour out like that
And throw out everything that has accumulated in her.
And it’s useless to pray at this moment,
To bring back moments of bright days.

And like a thin stream in an hourglass,
Melancholy and pain flow from edge to edge.
The soul is like a violin with a broken string,
Your voice will crack no matter how you play...

And quietly returning to the day gone by,
My eyes filled with tears again,
My heart was beating at a crazy pace,
Trying to remember my old love.

And the soul rushes about, like a bird in a cage,
And, trying to fly, it flaps its wings upward.
The will is so close, but is it possible to get through to it?
Only someone will quietly say: “Pray...”

Yes, God sees everything, but he is also powerless
Help the soul that groans inside me.
Such pain is beyond the power of the Almighty,
And Satan will burn the pain on fire...

Neither the Demon nor God will help me in any way,
In the end the soul will find its way out.
After all, this only happens to her sometimes.
It’s easier with the outcome... Where to look for the source?

ME AND YOU

You and I found each other in peace,
Where only evil and hatred are friends.
You and I are targets in this shooting range,
We are the jesters at the king's throne
And no one here will understand us,

Who will lose, who will find,

I believe in luck
After all, we found love in the world.

The wind will take us away from here.
This world has long forgotten about the miracle,
He became black from wars and vanity.
The light of love will awaken people from their sleep,
But only you and I will burn in it.
And no one here will understand us,
And only life alone will judge -
Who will lose, who will find,
Who will be happy in this world?
I believe in luck

And let no one here understand
The wind will take us away from here.
You and I are messengers from other worlds,
You and I are two angels in hell.
We will be burned in the fire of impermanence
And the ashes will scatter in the wind.
And no one here will understand us,
And only life alone will judge -
Who will lose, who will find,
Who will be happy in this world?
I believe in luck
After all, we lit love in the world.
And let no one here understand
The wind will take us away from here.

FAIRY TALE

A star flew in the dark sky
And I enjoyed myself during the flight.
And I didn’t think that it wasn’t a year
And she only had a second to live.
She only thought about
What lives and flies freely,
What will suddenly fly into someone's house?
And the star of love will shine.
And she flew so cleanly
Fulfilling the wishes of lovers.
Everything rushed, illuminating places,
Where was the shadow of hidden forests.
Now a second has passed like a century,
And the star, smiling, went out.
There is no more star, but note
That the Earth is beautiful with its light.
A cloud in the sky was watching everything
And for some reason I suddenly started laughing,
And then she sobbed loudly
And fell to the ground in the summer rain.
In the morning the sun got to work,
The water immediately began to dry up,
And the water, submitting to the sun,
It quickly rushed upward, evaporating.
And in the sky it gathered again into a cloud
And she said: "Poor star,
Extended an earthly ray to love
And it went out. Oh, how stupid!
Either way, here I am - endless -
From heaven to earth, from earth to heaven.
Submissive to the sun and wind from eternity -
I am not afraid of the voices of centuries."
A star once shone above the Earth,
Fulfilling the wishes of lovers,
And earthly love is alive with its light...

My star, my star, don’t shine in sorrow,
Don't bare my soul in front of everyone,
Why does everyone need to know that you and I were married?
And heavenly hell and immaculate sin.

Why are you shining uselessly now?
To my pain, which broke my chest?
We will meet you at the edge of the abyss
I'll fly to you someday...

You know everything - whether it's a lot or a little,
You were with me at every moment on earth,
In happiness you shone so tenderly at me
And cried in the anguish of the nights with me.

We hid our vices behind the light of day
And they fell powerless on the night of passion.
My star, we are too lonely
In the flow of years and hopeless days.

Wounded in battle by the bayonets of lies,
Soul wandering in the depths of centuries,
I couldn't admit defeat
And confession will not remove all shackles.

And now your light is like a revelation,
From the purity of non-crying skies
Calls me to salvation through oblivion...
My star, are you an Angel or a Demon? BE WITH ME

How many empty years have rushed past,
Like the steps of fate on the way to you.
I have now found you, my love,
And so I want to tell you on this day:
Be with me, my beloved,


Be with me my soul.
Be with me, my love and tenderness,
My unspent light, my earthly paradise.
Without you - empty infinity
He will destroy my soul and take it with him.
Be with me, my beloved,
A night star, a sea wave.
I ask you to be with me in silent anguish,
Be with me my soul.
Be with me and I can answer
To the whole world, to the question: “Why do I live?”
Just because you live in the world,
I will call the world by your warm name. You only
Be with me, my beloved,
A night star, a sea wave.
I ask you to be with me in silent anguish,
Be with me my soul. Be with me…

Copyright © 2016 Unconditional love

Preface to the first edition of the book
"Tatyana Snezhina. Call me with you" (1996).

“...But as long as there is a dream in your soul, a light in the distance and friends at your shoulder, you can walk through the fire and not get burned, swim across the ocean and not drown.”

With these lines, Tatyana finished her autobiography... The compilers of this poetry collection placed the autobiography written by Tanya before the introductory article, realizing that no one except the person himself could say something sincere and better about himself. But this text dates from February 12, 1995.

What happened next?

Arriving with a heart full of hope for friends whom she loved and who promised her much. But the betrayal of people, from those who called themselves her friends, whom she did not forget in this short story about her life, is an ordinary, banal betrayal and, therefore, not only wounding, but also killing something bright in the soul. And almost as a consequence of this - the collapse of dreams, faith, and creative plans. Anticipating the impending disaster, back in 1994 she wrote the following lines in her notebook:

Words scattered
Like the beads of old beads,
My head has cooled down
I won't be back again.

There was no longer a “dream in the soul”, “friends at the shoulder”, and the “light in the distance” was also ready to fade. For a moment, Tatyana stopped dreaming, stopped believing in justice, stopped creating. She said: “Why, who needs this, especially now when even I don’t need it.”

And the soul froze, and the words were out of place...
Thoughts in a swarm carry consciousness to hell.
Something was wrong, nothing can be returned,
And the torn sail calls on a strange path...

But these were emotions - the emotions of a young, vulnerable girl, the natural emotions of a common person. Of course, the soul suffers and is looking for a way out. Tanya writes again. But what appears from her pen is permeated with feelings of powerlessness in the face of the cruelty of life:

And again in this bustle,
In the stream of gray boring everyday life
I drink a drop of light in the dark -
Love and holidays are not the same...

End of February 1995. Tatyana, having overcome her disappointment, begins the search for a new creative team.

It was at this moment that Sergei appeared in her life, the man whom she fell in love with and with whom she would go into Eternity... But that will happen later, but for now, the successful Russian music producer Sergei Bugaev receives and listens to the audio material of the next “contender for the stage,” material by Tatyana Snezhina. As he later admitted more than once among his friends, a cassette with her songs quietly migrated from the walls of the studio to his car, and for several weeks he listened to Tanya’s songs, listened, forgetting for a moment that this was material for work. I listened like an ordinary person, listened to simple heartfelt words:

I'll draw in my album
Drawing in black and white with a simple pencil.
A high mountain with a sad house on it,
Sad sky and rain outside the window...

In the spring of 1995, Tatyana Snezhina received an offer from Sergei Bugaev to work in the M & L Art studio.

The first stages of this work were at first like endless battles - Tatyana did not like the arrangers’ interpretations of her songs, the arrangers, in turn, did not see “commercial prospects for promoting her material.” These frictions, which seemed to have no end, returned pain and disbelief to Tatiana’s soul, which began to subside after an unsuccessful period of work with the KiS studio.

And it's raining outside
Sadness pours onto the windows.
Everything will pass, of course,
I'm just sorry for the past...

At this critical moment, Tatyana was greatly helped by Bugaev’s talent and efficiency. Somewhere with patience, and somewhere with toughness, he achieved mutual understanding and a creative spirit in his team. Snezhina herself said: “The work proceeded in different ways. Sometimes we argue, even swear, but we always come to some kind of decision and result. If we are talking about my creativity, about what came out of me, then Sergei Ivanovich often gives in to me , allows me to express myself more, but if we are talking about the professional side, about the stage, arrangements - I trust Sergei Ivanovich more..." And new songs by Snezhina began to appear. They were born difficult, the work was carried out painstakingly and carefully. Some songs took 2-3 months to record, and it was so different from how it was done before, when “Moscow friends” managed to arrange and record 4-5 songs in a week.

In May 1995, Snezhina’s new song “Musician” debuted.

Musician until dawn
Sang this song to me.
I didn’t know what I would find,
But I wasn’t looking anymore
I'm on the way back...

And this audience began to appear: there were the first victories at various competitions, the first ovations and the first failures, the first television interviews and performances, fans. But Tatyana was not attracted to the external side of life and was not an end in itself. The main thing for her was to write songs and sing them for people, awakening long-forgotten feelings:

And somewhere in a wide open window
The soft light was burning, and, as if in a dream,
Snowflakes flew towards the light in the window
To the music that the gramophone hummed.

This is what she said in one of the interviews: “I don’t set super-goals, I just go step by step as long as I have enough strength and breath...” And these are not empty words. Snezhina was a very efficient and demanding person. She constantly tormented herself with the question that she was not living like that, that she had not done enough.

Tell me, what is my life worth?
A couple of black and white drawings,
Yes, a few immature poems?..

She created wherever she could, wrote poems on napkins in cafes, on tickets in transport. Snezhina’s family was literally in shock when her poems were everywhere, in notes, in paper waste, etc. She loved to say: “When I get tired of writing, I have a lot of time, then I’ll take up the old notes and process them.”

But life did not give her a break - studying at the institute, choreography classes, vocal lessons, rehearsals, recordings...

And it seemed that right now a lucky star was smiling at her - she had a job she loved, a talented producer and friend, a good creative team, a project was created to develop her creativity. It was planned to release a magnetic album in September, then a series of clips, and a laser disc abroad by winter. But, obviously remembering her difficult path to success, about the difficulties that young talents have to overcome, Tatyana, together with Sergei, creates a Charitable Cultural Fund to help young performers. There were many goals and tasks ahead, and she would have coped with them... But there was loneliness in her soul.

Loneliness is my age. Loneliness
Next to my name, like a patronymic.

And then Fate gave Snezhina another gift - Love. About two months after they met, Sergei told Tatyana that he loved her and intended to make her an official proposal to marry him. Two months later he did it and received consent.

People who surrounded this couple in the last months of their lives talked about how harmonious they were together: two beautiful people, a Russian singer, poetess and producer, caring for the glory of the Russian stage, a loving man and a loving woman. Sergei’s friends recall that it was as if wings had grown behind his back, that he was glowing from within and looked as if he had never been happier in the world. Tanya’s loved ones saw a sharp blossoming of girlish beauty and some kind of inner wisdom, as in a Russian fairy tale. They experienced a lot before meeting each other: betrayal of loved ones and dishonesty of friends, collapse of plans and loss of goals, disappointment in their work and powerlessness before the indifference of people - and now it seemed that they had found what they were looking for, what they were striving for - their the last pier, the pier of love and happiness.

At the end of the road - at the end of all worries,
At the end of the road - at the junction of all roads,
We will approach each other halfway,
And let's hold hands and not fall.

On August 15, 1995, the Europe Plus radio station will report on the upcoming wedding of Bugaev and Snezhina.

Tatyana and Sergey, momentarily forgetting about their creative plans, plunge into pleasant chores. We have already bought wedding rings and a wedding dress, and prepared invitations to friends. Tatyana gives wonderful lines to her lover:

Sorry, my faithful talisman,
That you keep me safe,
And I put you in my pocket,
Scratching with a fingernail shamelessly.

There was less than a month left before the wedding.

Television talked about this event and the young talented singer Tatyana Snezhina. A real shock for those gathered at this “party” were unexpectedly performed by Tatyana, instead of the expected pop songs, two romances “My Star” and “If I Die Before Time...”.

My star, don’t shine in sorrow,
Don't bare my soul in front of everyone,
Why does everyone need to know that you and I were married?
Both heavenly hell and immaculate sin.

She sang, and it is not known who was more shocked - the audience or those who, working with Tatyana, long and persistently rejected this side of her talent. One can only imagine how this would influence the future creative plans of her team. In three hours, Sergei and Tatyana will leave, and the last thing the public will hear from her lips will be the words of the romance:

If I die before my time,
Let the white swans carry me away
Far, far away, to an unknown land,
High, high, into the bright sky...

On August 18, 1995 at 5 p.m., they and their friends went on a pre-wedding trip to the Altai mountains.

The last of their loved ones to see their mutual happiness was Tanya’s mother, when she watched a small minibus from the window of her house. If only we all knew then that he was taking them away forever...

All we know about what happened is from scanty police reports and witness statements:

“On August 21, 1995, on the 106th kilometer of the Cherepanovskaya highway Barnaul - Novosibirsk, a Nissan minibus collided with a MAZ truck. As a result of this traffic accident, all six passengers of the minibus died without regaining consciousness: the director of the PIONEER MCC "Sergey Bugaev, singer Tatyana Snezhina, candidate of sciences Shamil Faizrakhmanov, director of the Master-vet pharmacy Igor Golovin, his wife, doctor Golovina Irina, and their five-year-old son Vladik."

At the scene of death, film taken by Tanya, Sergei and their friends on the last day of their lives was found. Many of the photographs were not spared by the blood of the dead, but the compilers of the book considered it necessary to include these photographs in the publication.

Manuscripts don't burn. Everything that was created by Tatyana Snezhina, this young and beautiful Russian girl, will remain with us. Her poems will remain, her songs will remain, the foundation, now named in her honor and in honor of her friend, will remain, her sincerity and kindness will remain, her soul will remain, bright as a wedding dress, which on that fateful day became a funeral dress, and pure, like a Russian one. snow.

The name of Tatyana Snezhina, along with other talented names, will no doubt soon become decisive for the new stage of Russian culture of the late twentieth century, the name of an entire poetic world that combines the energy of social renewal and the indestructible power of the poetic roots of Russia, the significance of which we already feel now, at a time of acute shortage of harmony and national culture.

The creativity of any talent is inextricably linked with its destiny. So both life and Snezhina’s songs are fused together, both bright and deeply tragic.

This collection includes songs and poems from different years. They reflect the author’s creative searches, her inner spiritual world throughout her life’s journey. Despite their obvious differences, they have a unifying tonality: almost all songs and poems are permeated by a sharp, soul-piercing sadness. They express a sense of the tragedy of life, internal pain and an excited, anxious state of the individual.

One should not think that the author of these stanzas specifically, for opportunistic reasons, was looking for pain points in order to impress the public. It is enough to take a closer look at the life around you to be convinced of this.

What surrounds us? A change in morals, a desire for material wealth as the only goal and main meaning of existence, an increased craving for ostentatious luxury, for prestige, for various types of entertainment. The outwardly catchy, superficial is valued immeasurably higher than the genuine, deep, significant.

Functionality and calculation penetrate into the realm of feelings. Another person needs a person only for “business”, not only in the social, but also in the intimate-spiritual sphere.

Life turns into a pursuit of pleasure. We constantly justify to ourselves a soulless, selfish, essentially empty existence. His main enemy is tenderness, affection, the need for someone, our love, which, however, often does not even have time to arise, turning out to be an obstacle to primitive pleasures.

It is becoming more and more difficult for close people to understand each other, they feel mutual alienation more and more acutely, conflicts break out more and more often, caused by the disruption of mental and spiritual contacts, and the desire for apparent simplicity and lightness. But what is simple and light, built without difficulty, turns out to be short-lived and fragile. Relationships between people turn out to be superficial and easily broken. And this is becoming the norm. Tragedy - Tragedy of the soul - becomes the norm.

For young women, the norm is the image of an unspiritualized thing that can be bought, and no matter what for, currency or rubles, the pleasures and ease of relationships, fame and career, a well-fed, prosperous life, an apartment in a prestigious area. The main thing is not to sell yourself short... Only the participants in such transactions do not understand that you can sell your body and life, but you cannot sell your soul; sooner or later it will remind itself. Will there be time left to understand this and change something?

The norm for men is the image of a playboy - many frivolous connections, lack of deep attachment to one person, simplicity and cynicism in solving life's problems. With such a man it’s easy... easy until insight comes. Often it comes very late, when the one who was the “black sheep,” a man “not of this world,” a modern Romeo, has already agreed to accept the conditions of the game that life has pushed him to. Having come to our senses, we try to return what we have lost, but we shudder with horror at the sight of the abyss, the bottomless emptiness that we ourselves have created. And again Tragedy, the tragedy of disbelief in the purity of human relationships, in the fact that there is something valuable in the world for which it is worth living, working, burning and being inspired. And we enter a vicious circle. This is the price to pay for the reluctance to overcome difficulties; personal ambitions are the price to pay for the desire to get everything at once and without problems.

And yet the pain from misunderstanding, from easily broken relationships between people is not the most important thing in Tanya’s work. She first of all sought to reveal the significance and depth of human feelings. Thus, she returned us to the true measure of man that we had lost - his soul, a great and enduring value. Each soul is unique and carries the whole world within itself. It is integral and unique in its essence, irreplaceable, and relegating it to the background in the play of life almost always turns into disaster in the personal, intimate sphere of life and takes on a deep tragic meaning.

Snezhina deeply personally perceived the tragedy of each person; this, perhaps, was her main “literary device”, the basis of her talent.

It is so customary that poetry publications are preceded by articles by critics or venerable writers, where texts are scrupulously, step by step, analyzed and a search for deep meaning is carried out. We will not do this, or rather, we will not be able to do this, just as we probably will not be able to measure the human soul, to fully comprehend human feelings.

Snezhina’s poetry is far from academic; rather, it is closer to folk songwriting. Of course, if you wish, you can find flaws in the style and rhymes of her poems, but no one can find falsehood and insincerity in them. Almost every poem was born as a song and has its own melody. It is sometimes difficult to distinguish where the song ends and the verse begins. It is a pity that the book cannot convey the uniqueness and beauty of her melodies and her voice. Just as it is almost impossible to listen to gypsy romances while sitting in a theater seat, so this book is unlikely to become just an decoration for a bookshelf. The destiny of her poetry is to live in the human heart along with the memory of this wonderful man, despite that fateful autumn of 1995.

This autumn came so early
Without asking or knocking,
Into the unhealed wound in the heart
She burst into a fiery whirlwind.

After Tanya's death, hundreds of sketches, unfinished songs and unfinished stanzas remained. But are they really unfinished? Maybe in their apparent incompleteness, in those ellipses that seem to break off a thought, lies all the wisdom, the depth of inner insight that she tried to convey to us.

And the soul is tired of pouring out
And keeps everything inside
So as not to fall and not break,
And don't crash into the void...

These dots are an invitation to us, the living, to find our own path, our only true path of the soul.

The star cried at night about what was gone forever,
About how she shone in vain and couldn’t reach the sun...

Why so much tragedy in the thoughts of a young, beautiful girl? I think it would be difficult to find among young poets one who would write as much about breakups and unhappy love as Snezhin.

I close the bible of my love...
It may not be read, but I must,
Gotta believe that I couldn't
Light a fire that burns to the ground.

I have to believe that I won't find it
My fallen star from heaven.
I must close my eyes and squeeze my heart,
Run as far away from love as possible.

The fire of feelings, it seems, is ready to incinerate the young heart of the poet Tessa, and we, on the wave of her emotions conveyed to us, believe that all this is happening to her, to Tatyana... Here it is, the true measure of talent - the ability to feel and experience it together with another joy or sorrow, to let someone else's pain pass through your heart, through your soul - the tragedy of someone else's soul. And make us believe that all this happened... Snezhina’s life experience is the experience of her soul in reading human destinies.

But even in the saddest poems she leaves hope for happiness. Every break with a loved one, every departure is a symbolic door to a new life, a reminder to us that through suffering and tolerance the human soul is purified.

And love is not love, and a dream is not a dream,
And the road with flowers turned out to be wrong...
Behind the fog of fate, behind the pitch darkness
The wind of strange hopes is arguing with me again...

Trying to make people kinder, awaken their souls, find harmony in the surrounding reality and encountering only well-fed indifference and cynical betrayal, she comes to the conclusion that in this world an encounter with evil is inevitable:

"...Where should a person go when he approaches the heavy doors of the hellish temple of Life? After all, behind the doors there is so much alluring, pulling, frightening, evil, good, beautiful and terrible... And you want to go to the alluring, good and beautiful, but on the way there is definitely something frightening, evil, terrible. And you want to avoid this evil, but you will still definitely encounter it on the way. Not now, but later..."

In search of a way out, her gaze involuntarily turns to the sky-high distances, beyond the horizon, to unknown lands. Her lyrics affirm, as one of the main creative themes, the theme of freedom, departure from the lived-in and familiar into the yet unknown. Such a desire for free flight speaks of the desire to find a place on earth, or in another world, where a person will be happy.

I won't take anything on the trip
And I’ll just look back on the threshold,
I'll leave everything on earth,
To become closer to the Lord God...

Dreaming of her little happiness, Tanya flies away in her thoughts either with a “night thunderstorm”, then with a “swallow in the sky”, or with an autumn leaf. Her dreams are sincere, and therefore in her poetry she easily merges with the world in which the romance of roads and adventures reigns, where simplicity and poverty are synonyms of sincerity and purity, where justice and harmony reign far from the bustle of the world.

But the path is only the path. And there is also a house. In her lyrics, this is not just a home, it is a whole world, where there are friends, loved ones, close people, where there is happiness and sorrow. Home is her roots, what nurtured and nourished her soul and creativity. And so we read:

I will return to that house with repentance
And I will kneel before the cross.
A holy prayer from sinful lips
I will cross out the silent silence.

She always returned home in her dreams and poems, she was unable to return only once in her life - on August 21, 1995 - Death interfered...

The confession did not have time to accept Tanya into its arms. But we are confident that her poetry will reach the hearts of people and this book will find its reader. And recognition will come...

Let me live without time
Let me live unrighteously.
Just now forgive me
And understand everything correctly.

Vadim Pechenkin,
January 1996, Moscow

* * * * *

Preface to the second edition of the book (2001).

"What is my life worth?" Who can evaluate? Are you yourself? Other people? Fate?

What do you need to put on the altar of Fate so that it gives you eternal life, life in the memory, hearts and minds of people? Probably your soul and talent.

In the days of the tragic events of August 1995, it seemed that with the passing of this beautiful girl, her Soul and her Creativity were leaving the world. But at the same time, no matter how blasphemous it may sound, with the advent of death, the perception of her lyrics suddenly became sharper, the understanding of her insight, her life Philosophy became deeper. To understand and love Life, you need Death to come... With each new day, with each reading of her lines, which sometimes sounded like a testament to those left to live, for loved ones, friends and admirers of her talent, the need to bring her poetry and music to people became obvious .

The light of her soul, reflected in her songs, did wonders for people - they became kinder... became part of her poetry... part of her world. Many in those days had the feeling that her soul was somewhere nearby... protecting and helping...

The Requiem Concert appears spontaneously. More than a dozen amateur and professional musicians gathered together in Novosibirsk to honor the memory of Tatyana and Sergei. Inspiration mixed with grief, enthusiasm - like a last tribute to the dead... And... it’s hard to believe in this, not a single flaw, neither organizational nor technical. No one in that hall could believe it... a hall filled with the souls of Tanya and Sergei.

Then the thought about Tanya’s unfinished song album.

In fact, her songs were officially released for the first time on the fortieth day after her death. In a short time, thanks to the honesty and enthusiasm of many people, T. Snezhina’s first magnetic album “Remember with me” was published. This symbolic name was invented by Tatyana herself during her work shortly before her death.

At the same time, the first documentary film about Tatyana Snezhina, “They Were Young,” was released. The creative team edited the film literally in one night; only one thing got in the way - tears. While working, everyone cried - both the director and the technical workers, but the film was built on HER songs, and this saved it.

In memory of the difficult fate of the young author and in continuation of the work started by Tatyana Snezhina and Sergei Bugaev, a “Charity Cultural Foundation” was created to support young talents in their name. Later, the annual “Silver Snowflake” prize named after T. Snezhina was established, awarded for the greatest contribution to supporting young talents.

In November 1996, inspired by her work, the team of the Veche publishing house, together with Tatyana's family, prepared and released the first edition of Snezhina's poetry collection - "What is my life worth?" These tape releases and books are not commercial, they were not intended for sale and therefore were not advertised. But in a short time, almost the entire circulation was distributed throughout Russia, books were searched for in libraries, tapes were copied from each other...

Some of the tapes and books fell into the hands of professionals that same year. Tanino’s creativity attracted the attention of such eminent and talented people as Igor Krutoy and Joseph Kobzon. Her songs are beginning to be performed by Russian pop stars. Already in December 1996, Snezhina’s song “Crossroads” performed by the duet “Taste of Honey” was included in the “hot ten” musical hits. Later, “Russian Radio Hit” places the same song in its album, but in the author’s performance. Magnetic albums of Lada Dance with the songs “Be with me” and “We are no more”, Alisa Mon with “Snowflake”, Mikhail Shufutinsky with the song “How Many Years”, again “Taste of Honey” with “Fantasy of Snow” and others appeared. Tanya's songs begin to be heard at concert venues in different cities and on the radio. They become dance hits at discos. And soon, two days before Tatyana’s birthday, on May 12, 1997, at about 12 noon, listeners of Russian Radio were shocked by Alla Pugacheva’s new song “Call me with you.”

At the festival of Slavic creativity in Vitebsk, the Prima Donna named the author - Tatyana Snezhina.

Then there was a victorious march of this song on radio and television programs, on pop stages and concert halls in Russia, near and far abroad. In many audiences, as soon as the first chords of this song began to sound, people stood up and listened while standing, sang along, chanted, and gave endless ovations.

It became clear to everyone that we had to prepare a concert.

The inspiration and creative enthusiasm of hundreds of people made it possible to quickly prepare and hold an inherently unique concert, which took place on November 5, 1997 in the State Central Concert Hall "Russia" to a full house. The country's best performers sang songs of a young author who had passed away, whose name only a few knew until recently. The state of the audience at the end of the concert could be described in one word - shock. Many cried, others were in a state of light sadness and enchanted by the music and sincerity of Tatyana’s feelings, which she conveyed to people through the songs and poems heard here. There was no one indifferent. It became clear that not just a new name in art was born, a new world was born - the world of Tatyana Snezhina.

“Musician” performed by Kristina Orbakaite, “Dream” by Tatyana Ovsienko, “Song for You” by Mikhail Shufutinsky, “There Was a Time” by Lev Leshchenko, “House on a High Mountain” by Lolita Milyavskaya, “What It’s Worth” immediately gained enormous popularity. my life" - Nikolai Trubach and many others, received by listeners as an encore.

We can safely say that it was from this moment that Tatyana’s soul received a rebirth. Society, shocked by the fate of this talent, once again thought about dozens of other young talents in which our country is so rich. The participants and organizers of the concert waived their fees, and the money was transferred to support young talents.

The television version of the concert (a television film in two parts) was aired on one of the central channels of Russian television at the end of December of the same year and was subsequently repeated several times at the request of viewers. Already in the new year of 1998, based on the materials of the concert, a double music album, “Call Me With You,” was released. It included twenty-two songs performed by Russian pop stars. This album broke all records for sales volumes and publications of so-called “pirated” copies.

Dozens of newspapers, television channels, and radio stations freely talked about the life and work of Tatyana Snezhina. The audience, shocked by the 22 songs that were performed from the stage and included in the album, were truly shocked to learn that they were taken almost at random from 200 written by a 23-year-old girl named Tatiana.

In 1997, 1998 and 1999, Tatyana Snezhina became the laureate of the All-Russian television music competition "Song of the Year". In 1998, Tatyana's work was presented in three categories of the National Russian Award "OVATION". At the award ceremony, the song “Call Me With You,” which was undoubtedly recognized as the hit of the year, was awarded the “golden palms.” Composer, People's Artist of Russia Igor Krutoy, being in the same nomination as Tatyana as the best composer of the year, solemnly refused to win in favor of Tanya. Her finest hour... Could... did she dream about this in her girlish dreams. Or maybe she was actually wiser and purer than us and this “vanity” would have been alien to her?

"It's just how you have to live,
To tirelessly give joy and love
To all those who are visiting here.
We are only guests in this life..."

Of course, as is always the case in show business, there was some speculation and conjecture. It got to the point that some “experts” argued that there was no such author and there could not have been, and the songs performed were the fruit of the work of an entire team of famous poets and composers.

"How difficult it is to live in this world,
Wait for happiness, believe and love.
How difficult it is to choose the right path,
Find out where is evil and where is good.”

But the people felt the truth in their souls. Enthusiastic letters came from all over the country, in which people often expressed gratitude for being able to gain access to Tatyana’s work, shared their sorrows and joys, and talked about the response in their hearts to Snezhina’s poetry.

"...don't regret what happened in the past,
Just try to remember
All that is most dear to you,
And those who will remember you."

Later, Tanya’s song “We are only guests in this life” became the final chord of Pugacheva’s revived Christmas meetings and a kind of symbol of the unity of creative people at the 2001 “Slavic Bazaar” in Vitebsk, where her listeners were the peoples and Presidents of three fraternal Slavic states - Russia, Ukraine and Belarus.

Love and interest in Snezhina’s work was not limited only to Russia. Her songs were heard in Ukraine, the Baltic states, Europe, and the United States of America. One singer from Japan sent a letter in which she said that Tanino’s work is in tune with her work, and the songs that have become firmly established in her repertoire are understandable and close to the Japanese listener.

Music collections began to be published, songs were sung during feasts and in karaoke halls.

The creative team began filming a new documentary about her fate.

Not only music lovers were drawn to Tanya’s works. Many people find in her texts both deep philosophical content and aptly noted and talentedly formulated tremulous states of the human soul, pure, kind feelings...

"Thank you to the will of Providence
In those short hours.
For those crazy moments
When we put it on the scales -
To the left - life, worries, glory,
To the right - tears, faith and love...
The cup that lay on the right
Was more significant again and again..."

People of various professions and ages - from teenagers to the elderly - find something of their own in Tanya’s poems and songs. Those few copies of books that have received free circulation are read to the gills. They want to read it, sing it. Literary readings and themed evenings about her work are dedicated to her. Both composers and students of music schools write music based on her poems. They create corners of T. Snezhina. They write poems about her, they want to imitate her.

A group of young climbers, in love with Tanya’s lyrics, made a “thematic” ascent to one of the previously unconquered mountain peaks of Altai. By right of discoverers, they gave it the name “Tatiana Snezhina Peak” and placed a capsule on the top with an act certifying this event and a book of her poems “What is my life worth?”

More than five years have passed since the release of the first poetry collection. Some materials were not included in the first edition. The idea of ​​publishing a new collection was prompted by letters and reviews from many, many admirers of her talent, who had previously been unable to gain full access to her work.

My love is a missing miracle.
My children are notebooks with rotting poems.
My happiness is withered flowers on the grave.
My life is a memory that has found warmth in your souls...

Tanya said these words to her mother in a dream on the fortieth day after her death.

Now, when six years have already passed since Tatiana is no longer with us, we can firmly say that the memory of her has found warmth in millions and millions of human souls, which means HER LIFE CONTINUES...

Vadim Pechenkin,
Moscow, 2001

(1972 - 1995)

Compiled by Selivanova G.G.


I want you to

this life There would be no offense

and evil So that fate

albeit capricious, But picky

was.


Her life was tragically cut short at the height of her talent and love.

Recognition did not have time to accept Tatyana into its arms during her lifetime.

It has come now. Her poetry is known and loved in Russia and abroad.


T Snezhina was born on May 14, 1972 in Ukraine. Her father is a military man. She, her mother and brother were often forced to move to his new place of service.

Mom and Dad are best friends


Tatiana's childhood was cloudless and joyful. Mom taught her daughter to play the piano very early, and later the girl successfully graduated from music school.

Our old piano... When I look at it, it seems to me that all the years it was a member of the family, happy and sad, sick and well with me.

I didn’t yet know how to speak, but I was already hitting the keys with my childish fingers, trying to show the world around me my feelings and thoughts.


At a regular school, Tatyana studied very well, she had many friends. She managed to do painting, vocals, and choreography.

1979


Brother Vadim was always nearby. He loved his sister and cared for her tenderly.

Since childhood, dad has been a protector and support.

Nothing's scary with dad on the swing


In subsequent years, the family was forced to change several places of residence: Kamchatka, Moscow, Novosibirsk .

Tatyana was fond of poetry

B. Pasternak, M. Tsvetaeva,

G. Heine.

Great man and

She called I. Talkova a poet.

I started writing poetry myself

at an early age and for his

left a short life

a huge number of songs

and poetry.


Tatyana liked painting. She was a master of paint and loved graphics.

Many people don’t know that she created wonderful paintings.



Student evenings with friends at the club piano became frequent.

In her autobiography, Tatiana would later write: “One of my friends quietly recorded what I sang and played on a tape recorder, and the tapes began to spread among acquaintances, friends, and relatives.

This was my first, and therefore most expensive, edition, the first joy of creative satisfaction. I couldn’t even believe right away that someone else needed what I wrote for myself.”


Fate gave Snezhina another gift - love. About two months after they met, Sergei told Tatyana that he loved her and intended to make her an official proposal to marry him.

Two months later he did it and received consent.


However life ordered differently.

All we know about what happened is the scant police reports and witness statements:

“On August 21, 1995, at the 106th kilometer of the Barnaul-Novosibirsk highway, a Nissan minibus collided with a MAZ truck.


As a result of a traffic accident, all six passengers of the minibus died without regaining consciousness: director of the Pioneer MCC Sergei Bugaev, singer Tatyana Snezhina, candidate of sciences Shamil Faizrakhmanov, director of the Master-vet pharmacy Igor Golovin, his wife, doctor Golovina Irina and their five-year-old son Vladik."

Stele in memory of Snezhina in Novosibirsk and Snezhina’s grave at Troekurovskoye cemetery


Let me live without time

Let me live unrighteously.

Just now forgive me

And understand everything correctly.


They say that God selects the best on Earth and takes them to Himself before the time allotted to ordinary people.

He took talent at its very peak, a bride a few days before the wedding, a loved one from family, friends and family at the very peak of their happiness and joy for Tanya.

Tanya's songs remain. Songs, known and dozens not yet sung. They are waiting for their performers.


SOURCES

http://www.snezhina.ru/photo/38_b.jpg

http://www.snezhina.ru/photo/42_b.jpg

https://media2.nekropole.info/2012/08/ZBPX25z4IQU.jpg

http://photo.qip.ru/photo/andreygoncharov/135040701/xlarge/163515822.jpg

http://www.snezhina.ru/photo/20_b.jpg

http://www.snezhina.ru/photo/1_b.jpg

http://www.snezhina.ru/photo/10_b.jpg

http://www.snezhina.ru/photos/?pf=5&url=0

http://www.snezhina.ru/photo/32_b.jpg

http://loviknigu.ru/data/reader/013/58/57.36.jpg

https://content.foto.my.mail.ru/mail/tat-bul536497/_blogs/i-10178.jpg

http://russianpoetry.ru/images/photos/medium/3e165f384e943b40506abbdc43d4f535.jpg

http://www.snezhina.ru/photo/101_b.jpg

http://epitafii.ru/wp-content/uploads/2014/08/photo-Tetyana-Snejina-3-590x442.jpg

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  • http://img.bookshop.ua/pic_big/12341985_23.jpg

Fate and lyrics by Tatyana Snezhina.

(Literary and musical evening in memory of T. Snezhina)

“Lullaby” by T. Snezhina

Vedas: On a fine day of the Ukrainian spring, May 14, 1972, in the city of Lugansk, a second child, a girl, was born into the family of senior lieutenant of the Soviet army Valery Pechenkin and his wife, a technologist at a local plant, Tatyana, and they named her Tanya. This is how a talented poetess and composer was born, who later became known to everyone as Tatyana Snezhina.

(melody)

Ved: The fate of an officer is not easy and often does not take into account the difficulties of life. That same year, on July 26, Tatyana’s father was sent to serve in the harsh lands of Kamchatka. A month later, his faithful wife, having collected the simple belongings of a military family, holding her seven-year-old son Vadim in one hand, clutching her three-month-old daughter to her chest with the other, flew out after her husband.

Ved: The first expensive purchase in the new place was a piano gift to my beloved wife. Quiet evenings were filled with the divine melodies of Chopin and Beethoven. Tatyana herself recalled that her musical perception of the world was shaped by “the howling of a blizzard outside the window, the crackling of birch logs in the stove and the tender hands of her mother, giving birth to unforgettable melodies.” Tatyana received her first music lessons from her mother at a very young age, at three years old. Later, at the age of four, Tatyana begins to show the makings of acting, staging various kinds of home performances for her family. At the same time, the first own “Rhymes” appeared.

Looked around with a hazy look

Autumn morning silence,

Deceptive sunny bunny

Suddenly it flashed onto the frosted roofs.

Ved: Later, Tanya enters and successfully studies in music and secondary schools. Almost every day the house is filled with friendly neighbors, school friends who come running to her after school to sing songs and eat her mother’s pies. .

(songSong don't fly away summer )

Ved: Good years...life gradually returned to its groove, friends appeared, the beauty of wild nature, comfort and the special atmosphere of a seaside town were all around. And... the family, instead of the three years required by the service, remains in Kamchatka for nine. One day in the summer of 1981, having flown off to visit her grandmother in Ukraine after the second grade, Tatyana was no longer able to return to Kamchatka; her father was sent again, this time to Moscow.

(song “Fog over the city fog”)

Ved: The loss of friends, longing for her home, the amazing and beautiful Kamchatka region, the first lyrical sketches are born in her notebooks. In search of empathy, Tatyana became interested in reading poetry. She is especially attracted to the works of Tsvetaeva, Pasternak, and Heine. Gradually, her sketches begin to take on confident poetic forms. She spends more and more time at the piano. Poems are set to music, sometimes music gives birth to poetry...

(song “We are only guests in this life”)

Ved: Then the talent of an artist is revealed in her. First love. New friends, the beauty of nature - these are the main motives of her work during her school years.

How the nightingale cries,

As soon as the rain stops.

And the raven jumped from the branches,

It circles all day long.

All this is happening strangely

For hundreds of years.

Love comes to us in the spring,

To light a fire in your soul.

As the rain fell on the ground,

Suddenly love came.

And like fog covered the sky,

My mind was clouded.

Suddenly they told me: “You like me”

And just like that, the dream passed so quickly.

I stayed in class with my friend,

And you left school for life. (May 1987)

(song There was a time )

Ved: In 1989, Tatyana entered the Second Medical Institute. It was during this period that Tatyana got her first public. Amateur recordings of her songs, made on a tape recorder, begin to spread among acquaintances, friends, and relatives . (song Ask Me)

“Creative” evenings with friends at the piano are becoming frequent. During this period, many funny and humorous songs and poems appeared in Tatyana’s lyrics.

(songFestival of Lies)

It's great that there is spring,

Cats screaming on the roofs!

How good it is that the world is complete

In the spring it bursts into the windows!

How sweet is the warm breeze,

Bringing awakening with you!

Having succumbed to him, twenty lines

The hand will write in obsession.

How difficult it is at night,

The pond is silvery with moonlight.

On a night like this they go away

Sadness and pain and sleep. And no

More beautiful place on Earth

More beautiful than night and peace,

And only me, hanging out the window,

I managed to see this. (April 1990 Moscow)

Ved: But here again fate intervenes in her life - in 1991, her father was transferred to serve in Siberia, to the city of Ob, Novosibirsk.

Longing again... longing for what I managed to love, what I managed to grow into. These feelings give a new impetus to creativity. Songs are born one after another... especially at night... when no one bothers you, when you don’t have to pretend... sometimes two or three per night . (songIf only I was lucky )

How I miss the rain.

Oh, if only someone knew, God!

How I love my Moscow,

Moscow, which is more valuable than all the earth.

In a country where the sun is constant,

I want to go, run there,

Where is that Solyanka street,

Where there is rain and bustle.

I don't want the fogs of London

We won't meet you there.

My love is given to the capital,

And anyone can find happiness here.

How I miss the rain.

In that apartment in the city center,

which I love so much

Ved: An old piano, destroyed by constant transportation, helps to remember, dream, create... But only for myself. The father, seeing his daughter’s “torment,” makes an expensive gift for the serviceman, then a gift - an “Electronics” synthesizer and gives away his “Jupiter” tape recorder. Now her small room has turned into the ultimate of her dreams - into a “real studio”! Films are being written one after another. At the request of friends and relatives, they write and write and give gifts. Sometimes they just give in. No one still knows exactly how many songs were written and simply given into the wrong hands... irrevocably.

(backgroundMy city )

Ved: The circle of admirers is expanding, the cassettes are selling. One of these tapes ended up in the amateur studio “KiS-S” in Moscow in November 1993. I felt the potential of her work, and the studio staff offered to discuss options for reselling these works to other authors and performers. But Tatyana, having arrived in Moscow, categorically refuses the proposed deal and offers an alternative option - to record a couple of songs performed by her. They recorded... not for free... everyone liked it... It is unknown whether it was the desire to make money, or belief in her talent, but the studio members convince Tatyana to record a music album with them at her expense, assuring that further “promotion and implementation, with their connections in Moscow" they will take over. The dream seemed so close... Tanya, with the support of her family, agreed... From the beginning of 1994, work began on the future album. Tatiana gives her first interviews on the radio. It was then that she took the pseudonym Snezhina. In March 1994, debut at the Variety Theater. For her, it was all for the first time - rehearsals, recordings in the studio, working with arrangers... and all this during short visits to Moscow, during student holidays and on weekends.

(Song my city )

Realizing that she is sorely lacking in experience, Tatyana tries to sing wherever the opportunity presents itself - at student competitions, in nightclubs, and discos. She practices vocals and choreography on her own. In one reputable restaurant in Novosibirsk, after listening to Tatyana, they did a favor by allowing her to perform pop hits several times a week “for free” for their visitors. Once her own song was performed, it caused thunderous applause and... Gradually, Snezhina’s repertoire of songs almost completely replaced the traditional one. The restaurant began to overcrowd on the evenings of her performances - the audience “followed her.”

(Song Sailor )

Ved: Over the course of a year, 21 songs were recorded in the studio, which she dreamed of combining into an album called “Remember with Me.” Tatiana said then: “These are songs that came out of my dialogues with myself, with my soul, from my tears and my joys, from my life.” At the beginning of February 1995, another visit to Moscow. Arrival for the final material. Arriving with a heart full of hope for the “friends from the studio” whom she fell in love with and who promised her a lot. They promised... You can write for a long time about the low quality of the final recordings, about the failure of their “promotion spotlights”, about the demand for additional money... But for a young girl it was simply a betrayal. Full of disappointments, Tatyana returned to Novosibirsk, stopped dreaming, stopped believing in justice, stopped creating.

Deny me evil fate.

Rest without me at least a little.

Let me walk my path in peace.

If you want, betray it! I'll forgive you for this

And I will consider betrayal as happiness.

You offended me, but I don't complain

I endure and go to the arena.

I go out without boots, without a shield and a whip...

Hey, look at the fight!

Stand behind me, in whom the dream trembles,

I promise you a fight without hesitation.

The red-hot sting slides under your hand,

Burning my soul godlessly...

I can no longer be submissive like this,

It is no longer possible to live as before.

Deny, turn away, don't pursue me,

I can no longer vouch for myself,

I'm not afraid of your hooligan - fire,

I already got burned by him...

We lost, that's enough, let's take a break,

Let's keep quiet so that the worries subside.

We'll wave goodbye to each other

And we'll go down different roads.

Deny me, evil fate,

Rest without me at least a little bit.

Don't hold me, let me go, I'll do without you,

Let me walk my path calmly... (“Monologue to Fate”, January 1992, Moscow.)

Ved: End of February 1995. Tatyana, having overcome her disappointment, begins searching for a new creative team in Novosibirsk. Among others, Tatyana Snezhina’s audio material is received and listened to by music producer and head of the M&L Art studio Sergei Bugaev. As he later admitted more than once among his friends, a cassette with her songs quietly migrated from the walls of the studio to his car, and for several weeks he listened to Tanya’s songs, listened, forgetting for a moment that this was material for work.

(SongBe with me )

In March 1995, Tatyana Snezhina received an offer of cooperation from Sergei Bugaev... and a couple of months later - the debut of her new song, “Musician.” “Musician” performed by Kristina Orbakaite, “Dream” by Tatyana Ovsienko, “Song for you” - Mikhail Shufutinsky, “There was a time” - Lev Leshchenko, “House on a High Mountain” - Lolita Milyavskaya, “What is my life worth” - Nikolai Truboch and many others.

(song "Musician" K. Orbakaite)

Ved: The studio was amazed by Tatyana’s talent and is starting to prepare the recording of two more songs. For them, Snezhina was a godsend, because it’s lucky to find both the author of music, songs, and a talented performer in one person. Tatyana began to have her own audience. Victories at competitions, ovations, television interviews and performances, fans. But Tanya did not succumb to the external side of success. She continued to create. She created wherever she could, wrote poems on napkins in cafes, on tickets in transport. .

(song Tram) mixed

Ved: But again, life did not give her a break - studying at the institute, choreography classes, vocal lessons, rehearsals, recordings... It seemed that right now a lucky star was smiling at her - she had a job she loved, a talented producer and friend, a good creative team. After listening to Tatyana’s home tapes and looking at her poetry notebooks, Bugaev once remarked: “Only with this we will have enough work for twenty years.”

It was planned to release a magnetic album in September, then a series of clips, and a laser disc abroad by winter. But, obviously remembering her difficult path to success, about the difficulties that young talents overcome, Tatyana, together with Sergei, create a project for a Charitable Cultural Fund to help young performers. In addition to that, she was preparing to become a doctor next year. There were many goals and tasks ahead, and she could cope with them...

I don't regret anything

Everything that was flowed away in a stream.

What will happen will all pass away on its own,

He will follow you.

If the sun, having made a circle,

Will return again, warming everything around,

So, there will be a new path in the morning,

Tomorrow will be better than yesterday.

If the wind is in the sails,

If the sky is blue in your eyes,

This means that the step on the path will be firm,

So, we must come to happiness.

Ved: And then fate gave Snezhina another gift - Love. In May, Sergei admitted to Tatyana that he loved her, and soon proposed to her to marry him. In July she agrees.

On August 15, 1995, the Europe Plus radio station will report on the upcoming wedding of Bugaev and Snezhina.

(songYour portrait )

Not forgetting about creative plans, they plunge into pleasant chores. We have already bought wedding rings and a wedding dress, and prepared invitations to friends.

Sadness, bottomless melancholy,

Life is foggy, love is homeless.

An abyss of darkness with a dim ray.

The dust of the roads and the light of dawn.

A kite soars over the mountain.

There is smoke above the hut.

There is a tower in the dense forest.

Let it lie wide and wide.

Sadness, bottomless melancholy -

I saw the engagement ring in a dream.

Life is foggy, love is homeless -

The wedding music is not crying for me.

White wedding dress

It doesn’t suit me, they say.

I'll walk down the aisle alone,

Ved: There was less than a month left before the wedding.

Television talked about this event and the young talented singer Tatyana Snezhina. A real shock for those gathered at this “get-together” were unexpectedly performed by Tatyana, instead of pop songs, two romances “My Star” and “If I Die Before My Time...”

My star, don’t shine in sorrow,

Don't bare my soul in front of everyone,

Why does everyone need to know that you and I were married?

Both heavenly hell and immaculate sin.

Ved: In three hours, Sergei and Tatyana will leave, and the last thing the public will hear from her lips will be the words of the romance:

If I die before my time,

Let the white swans carry me away

Far, far away, to an unknown land,

High, high, into the bright sky….

On August 18, 1995 at 5 p.m., they and their friends went on a pre-wedding trip to the Altai mountains.

Ved: The last of their loved ones who saw their mutual happiness was Tanya’s mother, when from the window of her house, she watched a small minibus. Who would have known then that he would take them away forever...

(background instrumental)

Because I wanted to change the world,

For carrying yourself proudly,

Because I sang my songs,

But I just couldn’t finish singing.

Because I didn’t wish harm on anyone,

For the fact that I could give joy,

Because I hid my tears,

I paid in full.

Because I never wanted to take revenge,

For walking the clear road,

And I couldn’t see at all,

When resentment burned my soul.

Because she knew how to value friendship,

Because I could love so much,

Because I wanted to fly to the sun,

For this they broke both my wings.

Because I loved freedom so much,

For wishing everyone happiness,

What kind of enemies did I pray to God for?

For this Eden cursed me.

For saving my soul,

Because I just wanted to live -

That's why life didn't love me,

Vedas: “On August 21, 1995, at the 106th kilometer of the Cherepanovskaya highway Barnaul-Novosibirsk, a Nissan minibus collided with a MAZ truck. As a result of this road traffic accident, all six passengers of the minibus6, director of the PIONEER MCC Sergei Bugaev, singer Tatyana Snezhina, candidate of sciences Shamil Faizrakhmanov, director of the Masterveet pharmacy Igor Golovin, and his wife, doctor Golovina Irina, died without regaining consciousness. and their five-year-old son Vladik.”

(songWe are no more )- mixed

Ved: This is how a beautiful twenty-three-year-old girl, a talented poet and composer, Tatyana Snezhina, tragically passed away. During her difficult but bright life, she managed to write more than 200 songs, a large number of poems and works of prose.

Ved: Manuscripts don’t burn. Everything that was created by Tatyana Snezhina will remain with us. Her poems will remain, her songs will remain, her sincerity and kindness will remain, her soul will remain, bright as a wedding dress, which became a funeral dress on that fateful day, and pure as Russian snow.

The song " We are no more"

Prepared by: Bublikova Y.A. 2014

(based on materials from the book “I don’t regret anything”)

Take me with you

1. Again from me the wind of evil changes

It takes you away

Without leaving me even a shadow in return,

And he won't ask

Maybe I want to fly away with you

Yellow autumn leaves, a bird behind a blue dream.

CHORUS: Call me with you,

I'll get through the bad nights

I'll go after you

Whatever the path prophesies for me.

I'll come where you are

Draw the sun in the sky

Where are the broken dreams

They regain the power of heights.

2. How long have I been looking for you through the years?

In the crowd of passers-by.

I thought you'd be with me forever,

But you're leaving.

Now you won't recognize me in the crowd,

Only, as before, loving,

I'm letting you go.

3. Every time night falls

To the sleeping city,

I'm running away from the sleepless house

In sadness and cold.

I'm looking for you among faceless dreams,

But at the door of a new day

I'm going again without you.