Wednesday, June 23, 2010
Быт выветрился в Берестечке, а он был прочен здесь. Отростки, которым перевалило за три столетия, все еще зеленели на Волыни теплой гнилью старины. (И. Бабель, Берестечко)
"Everyday life, which once flourished, has blown away. Little sprouts that had survived for three centuries still managed to blossom in Volhynia's sultry hotbed of ancient times..." (I. Babel, Berestechko, trans. Peter Constantine)
Tuesday, June 22, 2010
Sunday, June 20, 2010
Tuesday, June 15, 2010
Monday, June 14, 2010
Friday, June 11, 2010
The Russian spelling. A young woman at a piano, in Moscow, recent times. An old upright, black, with worn keyboard, like the black of her dress, which also appears a bit worn, especially for someone so young. Bending over the keys, strength of her forearms, and fragility--as if nothing else could at that moment possibly matter more...
Chopin, from the name of Fryderyk's French father, now carried farther to the east...