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Marina Tsvetaeva, Her Life in Poems - Rolf Gross

Marina Tsvetaeva, Her Life in Poems - Rolf Gross

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“Pra”, Elena Ottobaldovna Volosh<strong>in</strong>a<br />

Maksimilian Volosh<strong>in</strong><br />

Every guest was enthusiastically greeted by Maximilian Volosh<strong>in</strong> and his mother “Pra,”<br />

Yelena Ottobaldovna—the poetry of patronymics! Both dressed <strong>in</strong> long Tartar caftans,<br />

barefoot. Max, he was only fourten years older than <strong>Mar<strong>in</strong>a</strong>, a corpulent, genial<br />

philosopher. He wrote poetry and pa<strong>in</strong>ted. His widowed mother, equally volum<strong>in</strong>ous, was a<br />

firebrand, the soul of their guest house. They charged next to noth<strong>in</strong>g for their rooms. It<br />

was not yet a fashionable tourist spot. The guests prepared their own meals or walked<br />

three kilometers to a ramshackle Tartar café for food.<br />

Koktebel, Seryozha and <strong>Mar<strong>in</strong>a</strong> <strong>in</strong> the door frame, Pra sitt<strong>in</strong>g, 1911<br />

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