Читать книгу The Village on Horseback - Jesse Ball - Страница 47

And then one day the pilgrimage route changed. No one wanted to see the pillar in the desert, and so I had no more visitors. It was sad really, or so I thought at first. But then I went back to the history book I was writing.

Such a book . . .

It doesn’t even use our verbs. They’re too

pointed. Only causeless words

can please, a record without

a point of view. History proper,

for the first time.

Every physical change

in the world listed, along with its place.

I can work only at night, while I’m asleep.

Dreaming, one has time for such things.

Nonetheless, I fall behind. If only I had

an assistant, a really clever one . . .

All hermits begin by pretending to be hermits.

And by liking birds.