Читать книгу Метаморфозы. Зарисовки (на русском, английском, французском и польском языках) - Людмила Малецкая - Страница 3

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Melting snow, although spring has already arrived. Winter Sun, although the cold has already passed and the flutter of a flower on the window, like the breath of spring in the morning. Morning light, morning Sun. Nature sleeps, but the singing of birds is already awakening nature.

* * *

Life rushes by as through the looking glass. Raindrops knock on the window and the road leads into the distance. My soul is full of the scent of maturity and the gray everyday life no longer darkens my existence. I think of you and my last memory is the memory of gray days.

* * *

My soul breathes life into the flower, and the flower raises its petals.

* * *

My cat has a cheerful disposition and soft paws. She is kind and very beautiful, smart and agile. She catches mice and quietly steps on the green grass. The path leading into the forest is the path along which she wanders into the forest and back. She returns from the forest.

* * *

The family is the unit of society. And society?..

* * *

I think about the flight of a butterfly. There are wonderful sounds in the space of her wing. I think about singing and mandolin. And the timbre of my voice… The voice sounds clearer. The rustle of water in the tap… The rustle of rain outside the window… Moments of summer and safe sex… All the same.