I think, and most of you will agree with me, that not only people, books and movies can tell stories, but also pictures. I have several stories in pictures, which I wanted to tell long time ago. Some of them is my nightmares and fantasies, some of them is my feelings and memories, and some of them are songs which driving me mad. All of these stories combined to series LITTLE TRAGEDIES, and here is the second part, tragedies in red.
His grandfather was a watchmaker. And his grandfather's grandfather was a watchmaker. Now he himself is a grandfather. He always liked his work: he set a pace of the time, repaired these fragile and delicate things. There are many clocks in his house.
But in recent years a constant tick has begun haunting him everywhere. Wherever he went, everywhere he was surrounded by incessant TIK TOK TIK TOK. Even when there are no clocks.
The man in the red cloak
The man in the red cloak had many secrets.
For lunch he preferred bloody beef meat, and for dinner - baby fingers. Adults fingers were good, too, but they were really big, not for one bite.
He never had hair - he stuck a beard, and it was very disturbed him, but the children loved people with a beard, and without it he could not get himself a dinner, and sometimes lunch.
The man in the red cloak had sharp teeth in his mouth, quite different from the other people's teeth, and there were many more teeth than any man have, so the man in the red cloak was smiling only when no one saw.
The most important secret of the man in the red cloak was that he was not really a man. But - shhh! No one should know.
The Bird
All his life he loved only one person. He never said her about it, and she did not want to ask. He locked his love-bird in a cage, and never let it go. He looked at the bird from time to time, and once he wanted to release her, but forgot where he left a key. One day, she finally asked, and he confessed. And the bird struggled in the cage, struggled to exhaustion. He did not find the key, he broke the cage with his bare hands. The bird is free now. But will she fly away?
I had a heart. But it only disturbed: it was constantly wounded, it hurted and was tormented by doubts. I decided that it is much more convenient when there is no heart - it's easier to perceive this world. I thought that if everyone lives without a heart, then I can too. I left my heart far away, in a drowned land, and remained there my spontaneity, good-nature and blind faith in people too.
Sometimes it calls me from the sunken depths. Sometimes I want to come back for him.
The Long boy
The madness has a name. The madness has a shape. It's hiding behind a curtain. Because of his breath, draperies fluttering slightly and if you push them away, there will be nothing behind it except black emptiness with star placers.
The madness is a Long boy named Ted. He is terrible in his attractiveness, the attractiveness of Thanatos. He is like Eros. He seems to be the center of death and love. The Long boy is beautiful in his disgusting grace. He is like a heavy smell of rotting flowers, but it seems that, breathing it, you will feel the ringing freshness of winter. And lips are becoming wet and either hot from kisses, or cold from their absence.
Again and again the Long boy is pulling his hands from behind the curtain. And this is the darkest day of your mind. The day when you are falling in love with madness again.
Long ago, when I was a very little girl, I had a friend. I remember that together with him we shared all  joys and sorrows that only happen in childhood: we ate strawberry ice cream in waffle cups, rolled on one bicycle, smashed our knees to blood and flew on a swing above the clouds. He was never afraid of heights. He was never afraid to fall. Once falling, he always climbed, again and again. Until something happened. Red poppies suddenly grew out around him.
No one remembers that boy now. It was so long ago. But does it mean that he never existed.?


We will not drink from the same cup -
Neither water nor sweet wine is ours,
We will not kiss as the sun goes up
Or gaze at the night, on the sill, for hours. 
I breathe by the moon, you – by the sun,
But the love that keeps us alive is one.

My loyal friend is constantly with me,
Your merry girlfriend is with you, likewise,
But you’re the reason for my misery,
I recognize the fear in your grey eyes.
Our evanescent meetings have decreased.
Thus we are fated to preserve our peace.

But in my verse, your voice is singing clear,
And in your verse, my breath is always sighing,
O, there exists a fire that’s undying,
Beyond the reach of distances and fear.
And if you only knew just how transfixed
I am now by your dry and rosy lips!

By Anna Akhmatova
Translation by Andrey Kneller

HENRY LEE (song by Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds)
Get down, get down, little Henry Lee
And stay all night with me.
You won't find a girl in this damn world
That will compare with me.
And the wind did howl and the wind did blow.
La la la la la
La la la la lee
A little bird lit down on Henry Lee. 
I can't get down and I won't get down
And stay all night with thee.
For the girl I have in that merry green land
I love far better than thee.
And the wind did howl and the wind did blow.
La la la la la
La la la la lee
A little bird lit down on Henry Lee. 
She leaned herself against a fence
Just for a kiss or two
And with a little pen-knife held in her hand
She plugged him through and through.
And the wind did roar and the wind did moan.
La la la la la
La la la la lee
A little bird lit down on Henry Lee. 
Come take him by his lilly-white hands,
Come take him by his feet
And throw him in this deep deep well,
Which is more than one hundred feet.
And the wind did howl and the wind did blow.
La la la la la
La la la la lee
A little bird lit down on Henry Lee. 
Lie there, lie there, little Henry Lee,
Till the flesh drops from your bones
For the girl you have in that merry green land
Can wait forever for you to come home.
And the wind did howl and the wind did moan.
La la la la la
La la la la lee
A little bird lit down on Henry Lee.


And cursing each other with brute 
Passion, white-hot all through,
Neither one of us understood
How small the earth was for two,
That memory torments with spite,
Afflicting the most strong-hearted,
That one learns to plead in the night:
Where has my friend departed?
And as the choir voices rise,
Happy and menacing, that instant,
The same two stern and certain eyes 
Survey the soul, persistent.

By Anna Akhmatova
Translation by Andrey Kneller

WHERE THE WILD ROSES GROW (song by Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds)
'They call me The Wild Rose
But my name was Elisa Day.
Why they call me it I do not know
For my name was Elisa Day.' 
'From the first day I saw her I knew she was the one.
She stared in my eyes and smiled.
For her lips were the colour of the roses,
That grew down the river, all bloody and wild.' 
'When he knocked on my door and entered the room
My trembling subsided in his sure embrace.
He would be my first man, and with a careful hand
He wiped at the tears that ran down my face.' 
'On the second day I brought her a flower.
She was more beautiful than any woman I'd seen.
I said, "Do you know where the wild roses grow
So sweet and scarlet and free?" 
'On the second day he came with a single red rose
Said: "Will you give me your loss and your sorrow"
I nodded my head, as I lay on the bed
He said, "If I show you the roses, will you follow?" 
On the third day he took me to the river.
He showed me the roses and we kissed.
And the last thing I heard was a muttered word
As he knelt  above me with a rock in his fist.'
'On the last day I took her where the wild roses grow
And she lay on the bank, the wind light as a thief
And I kissed her goodbye, said, "All beauty must die"
And lent down and planted a rose between her teeth'

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