Have you ever been exhausted by all that has “fallen” in our era on Russian literature, Russian poetry, which, without exaggeration, can be called a “silent” word? Have you longed for that wonderful power of art, now replaced by nothing more than “the art of rhyming” or shouting whatever comes into your head, as long as it’s loud and “with meaning”? Because I'm tired. I'm tired and sick at the sight of the lifeless body of the Russian Euterpe, kicked by crazy "creators"! I suggest you read the collection of my works, called "Song of the Mute" for a reason. Life itself seems mute to us without those who from birth are able to speak to the people in that pure and sublime language, blessing for spiritual prosperity and uplift, with which every living soul, capable of creating and feeling the beautiful, certainly sings. In a world where “some people” are screaming and moaning everywhere in their cacophony of empty words, the song of the truly beautiful seems silent. If you think about it for even a moment, read it. Read and judge the silent song.