not elderly, not overly young
swarming with black beetles
we conform ourselves to cabbage soup, do so with a single heart.
Face the blue of the forest
eyelids as heavy as those smeared with treacle
fallen into an aristocratic wilderness
‘perhaps you’d like to have you heals tickled
dip them in melted butter?’
quivering lips emitted no sound
his face was of the warm, ardent, tint of copper
without moving an eyelid or an eyebrow
the greatest fool that the world ever saw.
‘have some mutton … when I eat mutton, give me the whole sheep.’
dessert in the shape of pears, plums and apples
grunt and belch
a signing of the cross over the mouth.
80 kopeks a soul
sympathy does not put anything into one’s pocket
his nose caked with snot of the consistency of thick coffee
could neither read nor write
pulled tight the waistcoat over his apple stomach, sprinkled himself with eau de cologne, took his fur cap
to meet a funeral is lucky
spitting into a sandbox