Аннотация

The Songs Of Peter Sliadek – Prologue A road should be observed from a bird’s eye view. It’s very beautiful – a road from above. No dust, no potholes; a cheapjack went along, lost a ribbon. Take it, braid a girl’s hair. The roadside flows with July honey, February cream, November gruel, May’s motley wave. Callosities, weariness, a hedgehog in the breast remained below, on a road – a bird above the road wouldn’t understand it. To it, to a martin-hawk, to a skinny little bird or to a sharp-beaked bully, the road seems to be the most wonderful thing in the world. How different from this road is an everyday sky: the wings tremble, the enemies don’t rest, an arrow awaits, in the cloud it’s cold, above the cloud – no food... That’s why birds squint enviously at silly wayfarers: just look at them walking!.. People should be observed from afar. Out of a window, for instance; still better if the window is at the very top of a tower. It’s very absorbing: people from a distance. A knight doesn’t smell of garlic and booze, a princess doesn’t seem to be a bitch pregnant from a stableman, and those you come across never try to give you a smack ...

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