KIM ANATOLY ANDREEVICH Anatoly Andreevich Kim (b. 1939). Russian writer. Author of collections of stories "Blue Island", "Four Confessions", "Nightingale Echo"; novellas "Lotus", "Jade Belt", "Taste of Thorns at Dawn", "Two Hundred Years Passed", "Stop in August"; novels

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(p. 6.12.1940)

Genus. in with. Wild boar, Kurgan region Graduated from the Literary Institute. He worked as a carpenter at the Beloyarsk power plant (1957-59), a design technician at a plant in Sverdlovsk (1966-70), a correspondent for the newspaper: "Svetly Put" (1971-78), "Komsomolets" (1978-87). Teacher at the Center for the Development of Children's Creativity (since 1988).

The author of the book. poems: Date with the Earth. Rostov-on-Don, 1980; There is a Polevaya river in the world. M., 1983; Rolls. Rostov publishing house, 1988; It's time for revelation. Sverdlovsk, 1991; Sentyabrins. Yekaterinburg, 1995; Hello, my dawn! Yekaterinburg, 1997; Attraction. Yekaterinburg, 1998; A kindred melancholy. Ekaterinburg, 1999. Compiled by the book: Wallet from a leaf. Poems, stories and tales of children from Polevskoy. Yekaterinburg, 1993. He publishes poetry in the magazines: "Don", "Ural" (1989, No. 11; 1991, No. 6), "NS" (1985, No. 7).

Member of the SP of Russia (1991).

Incentive diploma based on the results of the obl. lit. competition (Rostov-on-Don, 1981), award of the shareholder. society "Ural-region" (1992), society "In defense of the world", Ministry of Education of the Sverdlovsk region.

Lives in the town of Polevskoy, Sverdlovsk region.

Based on the materials of the questionnaire.

Meanings in other dictionaries

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I did not visit Anatoly Andreevich Azovsky so often, only when I came to Polevskoy to my parents on vacation. Ivanovo - Yekaterinburg - Polevskoy - the distance is not close. Previously, I called him that I was going to visit, he was always glad of my arrival. From the window of his apartment on the fifth floor of a five-story building, Mount Azov is clearly visible - a geographical landmark of our region. The real surname of Anatoly Andreevich is Chernoskulov. The secret of his pseudonym Azovsky, which later became a surname, I tried to find out from him right away, when we met at the meetings of the literary association "Rassvet" revived in the late eighties in Polevskoy. The meetings were held in the "Malachite Living Room" of the factory Palace of Culture. In Polevskoy, to his native land, Anatoly Andreevich returned to live under the pseudonym Azovsky. And when I casually asked: "Was not Mount Azov called you home?" - He, smiling, replied: "No, Pasha, I can't put myself next to a mountain yet, I came up with an aseudonym when I lived in the Rostov region, there is such a city of Azov there." Azovsky liked my assumption, and many writers from Polevsky believed that the poet returned to his native land, wandering and seeing a lot in his difficult life. They joked that the prodigal son returned to Mount Azov.
I did not manage to attend creative meetings of the Rassvet literary association every time, since then I lived, worked and created in Yekaterinburg. And soon I had to leave to live in Ivanovo, since then our creative gatherings with Azov were once a year. I came to Polevskoy on vacation, called Azovsky, we made an appointment, he was always happy and friendly. I especially remember our meeting, when he decided to record me on his tape recorder, I was with the guitar, and he obviously decided to take the opportunity. This was a bit unexpected for me, because I always prepared in advance for any concert or recording. And here Azovsky wanted everything to be as natural as possible, so that our meeting-conversation was captured live on a tape cassette. This recording has been preserved (I will not talk about the quality), all the words are heard clearly. He asked questions, I sang my new songs.
And also Nikolai Vakhtin and I came to visit Azovsky, it was almost every summer. Nikolai and I took a guitar, wine, tea cake. Anatoly Andreevich did not drink wine, he always welcomed tea. We communicated sincerely, he read us his new poems, listened to us. Everything was the same in the summer of 2012 - the last summer for Anatoly Andreevich. Nikolai Vakhtin and I are visiting Azovsky. August 7. Anatoly Andreevich was in high spirits, felt cheerful, some kind of novelty was present in his mood, as if he had got rid of some kind of burden on his soul. He asked his son Andrey to bring boxes with copies of new books. He always gave us his new collections with an autograph, and this time he made us happy, moreover, there are ten twenty copies of each in the load. I tried to be modest, and not to take too much, but Azovsky insisted: "Pasha, take as much as you can take away, and give just to those people who have at least something to do with poetry! .."
I felt a kind of sadness in his words, despair, they say, who needs books now, especially with poetry? I did it, my son Andrey has no time to do this either ...
There is such a notion that poets feel the approach of their death, I dare not say, but it is quite possible that Anatoly Andreevich had such a premonition. Usually he gave several books as a gift, but this time he was ready to give us whole boxes of part of the circulation of his latest collections. He always believed and hoped that the word has power, and it should not only be said on time, but also read on time. That summer, Nikolai and I were visiting Azovsky for a short time, we did not abuse our hospitality, we talked, we had tea. I even managed to take some pictures with my cell phone. No matter how hard Anatoly Andreevich tried to be cheerful, however, his fatigue was noticeable. I remember from our conversations: Azovsky talked about poetry, they say, it is sometimes written so easily, the words themselves fall into lines and add up into quatrains. And when I read the poem, I think that once I already wrote about it ... Maybe this means that I have already said everything I wanted? ..
Nikolai and I always encouraged Azovsky, write, Anatoly Andreevich, even if good and kind poems are repeated, maybe there will be more good on Earth. We said goodbye easily, embracing, shaking hands. Azovsky, as always said: "Pasha, say hello to the city of brides!"
The next day, Nikolai and I decided to transfer part of the books donated by Azovsky to the city library in Polevsky in the northern part of the city. The idea was Nicholas, we were sure that so many new books by the famous poet would definitely find their readers there. After the library, Nikolai invited me to his home to sing songs, talk, take a steam bath in the bathhouse. We continued our conversation about Anatoly Andreevich, and came to the conclusion that of all our contemporary poets, Azovsky, perhaps, became a pioneer in the field of education. He began to compose poetry in a poetry club at the Bazhov Center for Children's Creativity, then he taught versification in elementary grades at schools in Polevsky. He was a wonderful teacher. Through versification, he taught children kindness and morality, fostered in them a love for nature, for everything beautiful in the world around him. Children successfully composed poems, later these poems were published in collections, delighted children, as well as their parents. "Polevskie bunnies", "A purse from a leaf" are wonderful collections, this is the very spontaneity of children, filled with purity and kindness. There were many finds-smiles in children's poetry in the lessons of Azovsky. Here, for example, what ditties children compose:

Dima Klepikov
* * *
I have a hedgehog at home
He looks so much like me
That, probably, our whole class,
Can't recognize us.

* * *
I am two days yesterday
Gave a red-haired puppy,
And when I brought it back,
The puppy's color was incomprehensible.

Katya Luneva
* * *
And we have a kitten
We called him Zhorka.
Zhora loves to eat very much,
That's why they gave the name.
Andrey Medvedev
* * *
Emelya's cat on the hunt
He just dared to madness.
They say that in this case
He is not a mouse - he ate a dog!

Artyom Sutyagin
* * *
If Zina hadn't stared
Into the keyhole,
I wouldn't have it on my forehead
Large-block cone.

* * *
Why does Sasha have soot
On the ears and nose?
Because Sasha fried
Sausage on the stove myself.

Fields Kosenko
* * *
Our school is waiting for guests -
Great friends.
Come without hindrance,
Our dear Czechs!

Edik Marakin
* * *
Even imported friends
We won hockey.
Remembering our victory
Friends don't come to us anymore.

Azovsky was a talented teacher, the children loved him, they were interested in his lessons. Perhaps, for more than 15 years Azovsky worked with children, and wanted versification lessons in all schools, in the elementary grades. Poems help to think faster, develop imagination, find comparisons and images in the world around them, and develop speech. How to teach children to write poetry, Azovsky lucidly outlined and shared in his book “Poems begin with a lesson at school. Practical guide ".
Azovsky taught creative skills and adult poets, being the head of the literary association "Rassvet", helped in the publishing of their first collections. I have carefully kept these collections: L. Pivovarova, N. Vakhtin, D. Sorokova. I remember how Azovsky urged me to bring him a selection of my poems. But for some reason I didn’t hurry up on time, I don’t remember for what reasons then I missed the meetings of the "dawn" members. When I brought a selection of my poems, it was already too late, the collections were already in print. It was my own fault. Of course, I was sorry, but it seems that Azovsky regretted this more than I did when we met at his get-together. And for me he was a teacher, a mentor, and in many ways I am grateful to him. As such, at that time, one might say, I did not write poetry, mostly composed songs, not observing the shapes and sizes. But every time I attended Breaking Dawn meetings, I always found something to learn. They learned to write sonnets, acrostics, free verses, etc. And a significant part of the students did it well.
Azovsky was a wonderful man, a poet, teacher and mentor, he was a healer of our souls, and when we were going to the fire, wherever, in the “Malachite living room” of the palace of culture, or at his home, our souls felt better. And Azovsky treated with a sense of kindness. Here are his words:
“... In the declining years, when behind your back not only the years experienced, but also the accumulated experience in the art of survival, you more and more do not want this art - to trick, twist, please, endure, etc. Still, the soul is closer to what is natural, what is originally inherent in us. How wonderful, for example, the innate sense of kindness. And it depends on us, let it grow in the soul, or, as they say, from the field! But how ugly, how disgusting such a field looks. Everyone needs kindness! And, as I noticed, most often it manifests itself then in human relationships when they do not lie (especially for selfish purposes) to each other. That is, when they are sincere. In everything! .. "

Azovsky passed away in the fall of November 12, 2012.
Blessed memory of the poet Anatoly Andreevich Azovsky.
The poet passed away, but his poems, his hopes, his kindness are still alive ...

* * *
Eh, I would live carelessly
Well, at least one day,
So that the promise of hope
I could heal all the wounds!

So that in a day for this strength
To pick up to have time,
And then - even to the grave! -
You can endure the pain.

Then not at all
The days would not go carelessly
And different nonsense
Ears did not grow into space.

After all, it's time for work-care
Fill the days to the brim
So that Russia out of the swamp
We are not a hundred years old to drag.

So that about our mountainous edge
My descendant (sorry - not me)
I could say once proudly:
- This is my homeland!

* * *
We argue with someone, we are looking for something ...
And in the end,
Will carry us to the cemetery
To catch up with the fathers.

And peace will find its bones
Amid the darkness of the grave ...
After all, there really are only guests
We are in this world.

Indeed, indeed, no matter how you fight,
But don't turn
Allotted Life Rails
On the way back.

And did I wander in the dark,
Or was it light
You will leave everything to descendants -
Both good and evil ...

Now it's my turn
Go there,
Where the sun does not rise
Trouble is not threatening.

And when I'm at the churchyard
I will sleep in silence
Multiply my poems
At the commemoration of the soul.