Once, in the middle of April I was walking along the seacoast and heard to sounds of night. Still being chained in heavy ice armours, the great Asian sea slumbered. It was wonderful night, one of these frabjous nights, when ice flow on Baikal begins. It starts with night voices, with sabbath of its mysterious spirits. Living voices of Baikal were greeting me from the sea – the groans, bawls, roar, squeal, rustle and a crash of breaking ices. Having colluded with a wind, they transformed the polished ice surface of sea into a huge web of cracks and breaks. «It was a sea with surprisingly crystalline and pleasant water on taste. It was situated over sea of Diamonds. Eterne has created it in the form of two horns connected together. It has arisen from an underground crevice. It groaned always, and will groan up to the Doomsday. And this sea is in constant excitement and a roar … » - when looking through the book Arabian cosmogony «Wonders of created», I come across an interesting lines. I have remembered these words. I have reflecting in that moment. Having cabaled with a wind, these sounds were represented to me with generation of the human beginning – work and creation, the world and war, divine and vain, beautiful and dire… The human history is a history of rising and descenting. The Baikal shores were long ago eyewitnesses of fierce nomad incursions and placid labour of settlers. Connected Mediterranean and China the Great Silk Road laid through the Asian steppe, alongshore Baikal and Hubsugul. It was a not only a trade one, but the way of insidiousness, misdeed and gain - an easy money. Even sanguinary events were occurring at the Europe and on Central Asian plains have been echoed to here. It was rigorous time, when ends were justified with means, and injustice found always its justification. So many lives were lost in vain! Only the diamond stars on a black dome of the sky looked at this world impartial. No, it was not Phrygian sky and not the Marble Sea shores – it was oecumene of Ancient Scythians, bellicose Huns and later indigenous inhabitants – ancient Turkomans- Kurykans and Tartar-Mongolian tribes. But it didn’t matter. During this moment the sacral message of your songs become suddenly clear to me. We were born in one day, under shine of the alike astral stars. Perhaps, therefore your creativity is so cherished and clearly to me. I wish present you with not flowers, because their beauty will wither, not words, because their sounds will be dispelled in memory. I wish to present you with million stars, as symbol of wisdom and eternity. Be happy!
