East Berlin's June Boat Song

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He is dangerous, he even deceives himself.

Perhaps in the past I would have been moved by his loving behavior, but now, being cautious and nervous, I keep reminding myself that this person in front of me is just deceived by his strange and paranoid possessiveness.

He doesn't love me at all, the word love doesn't exist between us.He is the person I can no longer trust easily, he is the person who plays with me like a doll, he is the person who caused me countless pains.This is a trap, I told myself, love is something that can bind a person, and he is luring me into his cage.

I took a deep breath, kissed him on the cheek reassuringly, and broke free from his arms.He did not speak, and we have been silent since then.

On Mayakovsky Square in Moscow, a flock of white pigeons is flying.I stood on the square and looked up at the blue sky. White clouds stretched obliquely and thinly in the eastern sky. Holding the balloon and running, the silver bell-like laughter drifts far away with the breeze.

We walked across the square to the Moscow Tchaikovsky Concert Hall.This world-renowned concert hall is the main concert hall of the Moscow State Tchaikovsky Conservatory of Music. It has an elegant off-white appearance and a variety of arched windows. After entering, the lights in the magnificent hall are very dazzling, just like the Middle Ages The Tsar's palace.We were seated on the second floor with a great view.

Julian made no secret of his joy, with a clear and bright smile on his face, he said that we have caught up with the good times, and the National Symphony Orchestra will play a Tchaikovsky theme concert today.

"There will be our favorite song." He whispered in my ear: "I have been waiting for this moment for a long time, Rhine."

"Yeah." I nodded lightly in response to him.

In fact, I was very excited. You must know that the Tchaikovsky Concert Hall was the place where Anna came to when she was young. At that time, she studied in this conservatory for a short time. Later, every time I disturbed her to practice in the piano room Every now and then, she would pick me up and sit on her lap, telling me about her fond memories of this conservatory.

"There is a very, very beautiful concert hall there, and I dream of playing the June boat song there." She bent her eyes, showing girlish shyness, as if dreams were something to be mentioned.

"Then why don't you go?" I asked her with a smirk.

Her beautiful bright eyes gradually dimmed without any explanation. Later, I realized that the gradual decline of the family and the shadow of the war made Anna's dream completely become an unspeakable dream.She became an ordinary piano teacher. Although she is excellent, she has nothing to do with her dream.

The first is the Piano Concerto No. 1812 in B-flat minor. The pathos of the Russian nation instantly infected the entire concert hall, allowing everyone to step into the glorious epic of this nation.And when the second movement of the String Quartet in D major played the song-like Andante, I seemed to see the vast and boundless land of Russia, the rushing rivers, the colorful birch forests blown by the breeze, and the majestic mountains stretching endlessly , the people are enduring boundless suffering and sorrow, and in this sorrow there is a bright and beautiful hope; after the song is over, the [-] overture is played, and the fierce gunfire seems to put me in the smoke of the Russian-French war. Seeing and witnessing Kutuzov's heroic victory against Napoleon's cavalry with spears; after that, my favorite song, the June boat song surging waves of the Volga River, poured into my heart one after another.

The hand was held tightly by the other hand. In this sad melody, I closed my eyes and let myself fall completely.This makes me how to thank the creator for giving human beings such wonderful music.I think Tchaikovsky must have been kissed by God.

When the last four keys of the song that is so familiar to him are about to be pressed, there is a sudden softness on his lips.Even though it is flitting past, it just reflects the last four notes.

I opened my eyes, the gorgeous green eyes were close at hand, and the soft breath was on my cheeks.

I smiled uncontrollably, a bright and sincere smile.

It's been almost a year, and this is the first time I've met his gaze and smiled so much.He was also a little surprised, and responded to me with a brighter smile.

The Nutcracker started to play, we looked at each other, as if we had forgotten everything, there was no sound, no communication, just looked at each other, and for a moment, I didn't think I hated him anymore.

All hate is nothing but love, because of love there is hatred, and hatred is the thorn bush in my heart, which can only hurt myself.

All of a sudden, there seemed to be a little relief, but no panic, maybe time will let me forgive him sooner or later, because I love him so much.

"Rhein." He said suddenly.

"Ok?"

"I will remember this moment forever."

"Me too."

He slowly pursed his lips, with a little shyness, and smiled purely with his head down, like a clean and flawless young man who was just beginning to fall in love in front of the girl he loves.I stretched out my hand in a daze, and caressed his surprisingly beautiful and gentle cheek under the golden light at this moment.

"Julian."

"Ok?"

"Although I don't want to admit it, I love you."

His eyes were full of joy, and he hugged me in his arms: "I know, I always knew."

"You love me, you can only love me."

Should I thank you, my dear Tchaikovsky, for bewitching me with music, making me say things I really don't want to say, maybe, you are telling me to face my own heart?What a lot of courage it took, but you gave me this courage at this moment.

But can it last?

We walked out of the concert hall, it was getting late, and we got in the car and went back to the hotel.I can't extricate myself from the memories of wandering in the concert hall. He seemed to be a little emotional because of the music, and he was almost like a pool of water that night, wrapping me tightly.

The kiss fell on every part of my body, confusing all my sanity, I couldn't stay awake at all, and even my vision was covered with a fog of lust.We are not on the hotel bed, but on the grass by the Volga River, hugging and kissing every inch of each other's skin, and blending the lingering affection into each other's bodies.The waves are heaving, the mysterious stars are shining, and the June boat song is playing endlessly...

I fell into the Volga like a drop of water, lost myself and became him.No body belongs to me, no consciousness belongs to me, everything is in him, in his tenderness like a river.

I looked up and let the brilliance shine down in the ups and downs. The hands around my waist were like the shackles of fate, as if I couldn't get rid of them in my life.Something binds me together, entangles our destiny into a dead knot, whether we like it or not, we can never untie it.

Loving him has become my invincible instinct, I admit it, and I admit it in waves of overlapping pleasure.

Who really loves who doesn't really seem to matter that much.Whether the words are true or false, even if I don't believe it anymore, I don't want to continue to struggle.

This is tantamount to giving up on myself, but I just want to live for myself and live according to my heart.

The unbearable pain of that night was burned away in the fire of lust, leaving only the silent lingering silence.

Later, we shuttled through the streets and alleys of Moscow. I had heard about their magical subway station for a long time, so I begged him to take me to take the subway.I rarely ask him for anything, and he says yes almost without thinking about it.

I only feel sorry for Alyosha and the others, who had to protect their general silently in the crowd.

But the subway station was built really well, and even he himself couldn't help but sigh why the Soviet people are so versatile and full of artistic cells.Look at the large mosaic ceiling, the Art Nouveau style stained glass windows, the complicated bronze chandeliers, and the expensive octagonal marble arches... The construction of the subway station under the first five-year plan can be called art, it is simply a Proletarian New Rome.

We lingered in those beautiful subway stations, and wandered the streets of Moscow after dark. The air was filled with the scent of vodka, and a very beautiful melody floated. I stopped and listened curiously.

*"The garden is quiet at night, and the leaves are no longer rustling;*

*What a night, how enchanting, what a quiet night. *

*The small river flows quietly, with slight waves, the bright moon shines on the water, and the silver dangles. *

*I can vaguely hear someone singing softly, what a quiet night. *

*My sweetheart sits beside me, watching me silently;*

*I want to tell you, but I am too embarrassed to keep many words in my heart. *

*The long night will soon pass and the sky will be bright, I sincerely wish you a good girl;*

*I hope that from now on, you and I will never forget, the night outside Moscow. "*

"Night on the outskirts of Moscow." Julian whispered in my ear, "It's a new song from last year."

"The song is very nice, and the singer's voice is very gentle."

"Well, it's Vladimir Troshin." He smiled and said, "It's really nice, but the voice is not as gentle as mine."

"Oh?" I looked at him meaningfully: "Then tell me something."

His face turned red, and he said softly, "I, I don't sing."

"Come on." I pushed him with a smirk: "Please make me happy, hurry up."

He lowered his head and face like a red sunset glow, glowing brightly under the dim street lamps, this is the first time I've seen him so cramped in so many years.This made me even more excited and excited, and I made up my mind to let him sing a sentence.

Under my soft and hard foaming, he finally let go and opened his lips slightly.

"I hope that from now on, you and I will never forget the night outside Moscow."

I was stunned for a moment, and it took me a long time to react. I coughed twice in embarrassment, and patted his shoulder.

"Not bad, good singing."

"Really?"

"Well...really, really."

"Then why are you holding back your laughter?"

"Do I have it?"

I quickly turned my face away, trying to control every muscle in my face to keep them calm and not laugh out loud at someone's face.

Oh, God!He didn't have a single note on the tune. Could it be that God, your old man, closed the door for him?

He seemed a little displeased, and snorted twice: "I knew you were going to laugh at me."

"I didn't." I protested, "Why should I laugh at you."

"Hmph." He raised his jaw arrogantly, snorted impatiently, and strode forward with long strides, dragging his long shadow.It wasn't until I thought he couldn't hear my laughter that I propped myself against the wall and laughed out loud.

But in the next second, he ran back childishly like a child, and said angrily, "I knew you were laughing at me!"

"I'm sorry...I, I can't help it...how can...not a tune is right...hahaha!"

I blushed, and told myself that I would accept it as soon as I saw it, otherwise I might get punched a few times if I offended this weird-tempered big man. I wiped away my tears and looked up, surprised to see the calm expression on his face. But a gratified smile.

"Rhein, you can laugh at me."

He leaned down and held my face, wiping the tears from his laughter: "Really, if it makes you happy, you can laugh at me forever."

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PS: Mayakovsky Square, now Triumph Square