My OperaSiskin
Wednesday, August 8, 2007 8:50:20 PM
Birches are truly very beautiful trees. But just because I was born in the south I used to look at them somewhat cautiously and mockingly, rather thinking of literary birches, which bored me, than of real ones.
Some birches are very tall and voluminous. A white trunk and translucent, bright leaves. The black crosswise grooves resemble steamboats, hammers, figures out of diagrams. In the leavage little siskins sit, small and green of themselves and resembling the leaves. One was sitting on a little hill looking at me like a woman who has swept back the borders of her shawl from her face.
I must write a book about the parting from the world.
Yuri Olesha, [autobiographical notes], 1950s.
Some birches are very tall and voluminous. A white trunk and translucent, bright leaves. The black crosswise grooves resemble steamboats, hammers, figures out of diagrams. In the leavage little siskins sit, small and green of themselves and resembling the leaves. One was sitting on a little hill looking at me like a woman who has swept back the borders of her shawl from her face.
I must write a book about the parting from the world.
Yuri Olesha, [autobiographical notes], 1950s.
