To Winter. 2015
9 Mikhail Yurievich Lermontov
Lermontov
The Bulbul is much better. But wildness doesn't follow A. I couldn't keep it in my money box forever, so I bought a relatively large birdcage made of metal at a hardware store. There might be a birdcage that fits the feet of a bird made of bamboo bamboo, but there was not enough energy to go there.
I was asked what kind of bird it was, so when I answered that it is a bulbul, I told him that it seems that it has also grown quite a lot in the city these days. But it's hard to survive. When I brought the bulbul back to my home, the fluff left on my chest and back was swollen, making my whole body look awkward like a rubber ball with a little air in it. It began to hide, the whole body became thin and tight, and it looked like a young bird.
The bait is still mandarin oranges, and I don't eat anything else. It might be good to give insects, but that is also troublesome. When you put a mandarin orange in a birdcage, make a noise. The wildness is amazing. Not so easy to get used to by humans. That might be better. However, I feel sorry for not letting it go anymore when I'm fine.
Live in a city, or maybe it will, but let's go back to Noyama once. Maybe this guy doesn't even know it. It would be nice to have a hill or a big forest, but I don't think there is a good place. I wonder if I can only ride the suburban line. If you go further north to O station where painter K lived, you can see the hill on your left. Is it best to let go somewhere around that?
Even a bird that is not awkward to the master will be familiar with it for a while. The bird called the bulbul is dull, or so dull, or that kind of sign. It's hard to escape even when you get close. Humans don't seem to care so much. The head with fluffy marbled hair is like a jar. No, it screams loudly. Is it difficult to survive even with this?
If you take the suburban line, you can see R-so where K lived for the first time in a while. If it's still there. It may be gone at that age. The swirling tips of the four chimneys in the toilet look like the steeple of a Russian church. Russian language taught by C once upon a time. An M lady who was a descendant of the Russian aristocrat who taught me the conversation on that edge. "There are dark and bright vowels in Russian, Volga is the darker one," he said, many times by writing light and dark vowels on the blackboard. The graceful pronunciation of M, who continued to think of the mother river Volga in a foreign country, is still audible.
At one point, Lermontov's poem was written in cursive form like a blue ballpoint pen so she could reminisce. Mikhail Lermontov, his name was Mikhail. It was too late.
The Russian name for learning A is Mikhail, and Lady M said she should give herself a name she likes.
-Misha, where did you learn that phrase?
-This is M. Teach Yourself Series.
-Where did you buy?
-K bookstore at S station.
-Misha, where did you learn that phrase?
-This is M. Teach Yourself Series.
-Where did you buy?
-K bookstore at S station.
I thought that M chose Lermontov because it was a masterpiece. However, the name of Lermontov is Mikhail. It is the same as A's Russian name. Was M thinking and giving until then? There is no way I can listen back now.
Lermontov's poem, "Alone on a journey."
No comments:
Post a Comment