Wednesday, October 28, 2009

Turgenev on his birthday


The dark unclouded sky stood, inconceivably immense, triumphant, above us in all its mysterious majesty. One felt a sweet oppression at one’s heart, breathing in that peculiar, overpowering, yet fresh fragrance - the fragrance of a summer night in Russia. Scarcely a sound was to be heard around.... Only at times, in the river near, the sudden splash of a big fish leaping, and the faint rustle of a reed on the bank, swaying lightly as the ripples reached it ...

Ivan Turgenev
from Byezhin Meadow
A Sportsman's Sketches(1852)


1 Comments:

Blogger willow said...

The fragrance of a summer night in Russia... ((sigh))

Happy Birthday, Mr. Turgenev.

10/28/2009 12:42 PM  

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