72@17>o>o>o>o>o>}X>>>> >? ? <?Gx>? ??*@>o Spring And everyone knows: under the rose house, where white maidens dignifiedly held the cornice on the solid stone backs of their heads, bending their torsos, withdrawing into the ivy (under the navel) and secretly turned into a stand for the torso of white stone, complicating the widening of a water fountain, between the windows, where over the glass, from an oval, a ramhorned scoffer showed a round little mug that house they broke apart long ago; in this place rose a huge heap of stone everyone knows: under the rose house, where maidens held the cornice,there flounders about; a white bubbly comb by the naked pebblejust like seethrough, radiant beads: it blows up with a multi-tude of clear little bubbles, it bursts; new ones are blown up; the foam runs from it slobberingly, water thundering in a waterpipe; ah, every-wherea discharged waterflow; from the space under the gate to the curb; little boys throw a paper ship into the curly combs; piles of split pieces of watery snow are plopped up; everything issoiled; every-wherethe gay chirp of sparrows; someone, all soiled, runs in a chocolate-colored bowler hat, crushed and put on aslant, in an overcoat, hung with old tatters and not covering up the tail of a frock coat, brushing with a wave of the hand,I did not recognize the runner: this isPapochka, not noticing us; still yesterday I had seen on him the bowler hat of palegray color (his, the black one,is lost); he was holding the crooked handle of a hung-open umbrella; today he has on a bowler hatchocolate; and the umbrella hasno crooked handle, it is turned-in, newish. March gayens the Arbat, but it is sweeter on Kislovka; the rose Kislovsky house, like a candy from Felsh; tin cans sparkle in the window of Retter (coffeemocha): Monsieur Retter is graying; we go into the shop opposite: later there was a display here of frames and splendid picturesThe City of Nice. This was not there at that time; the green Hope, which opened in just eighty-seven with little notebooks, tracing paper, colored paper and other temptations, was not there at all; the ladies of Hope later greeted me amiably (that one, the skinny, blond one not so much, but the other, the full-figured one,very much so); the Arbat residents know Hope; and they knew the wine merchant Popov; but who remembers Burov, who used to buy canes and umbrellas at his place? The house, where he carried on his trade, wooden, brown,was borne away by stormy time; here isthe Neidhard house, the Patrikeev house, the Starikov house from where with sausages, tea, and fruits Vygotchikov teases (after-wards Kogtev teased from here); I wait; hepushes through the door: to invite the buyer,a proud, doublesideburned, snubnosed, bald; andin an apron; he snaps the abacus; andlooks out for the little ones; ah, how the selfresounding ear burns, the overflowing warmth of puddles cools off into treasure frames of cold; on a fiery frame someone is borne off into the green heavens. Yes, March!.. . . . . . . In the month of March all perceptions arefresh, light, musical; and Mamochka istoo: light, musical, springy she bends with a sigh over the piano keys grows thoughtful; smiles; and don don don don! gives out on the keys. With a bent, tiny pinky the little hand tossed about; andeverything lightened; everythingshone; our dining room was con-structed of sound, made of sound; it revealed itself for view: I saw light lilies flying flowingly onto white wallpaper; I heard how with some response the yellow buffet was filled, oakbodied, which was usually crazed, was aroused; andit answered with a tremble to the stride; how the ringing sounds of glasses melodically answered its sounds; three little busts rose: Pushkin, Tolstoy, Turgenev; the buffet was aroused: the little busts fell; the box rose like a black cutwork tree; it stuck out its jaw, covered with a black lip; the lip opened into a singing whitetoothiness of keys; and here and there the fold-out candlesticks turned bronze: Mama was sitting down to play in the cornflower-blue gayish blouse, throwing fingers into the air and falling with a finger on a key; she was sitting down to play the same thing that she often played, which I am unable to make out,is all of this good or bad: aha! here it is: what is it? I do not know, but I do know that it isthis aha! how there are thrown out, how tossed out with powerful sounds, producing disorders, in agreement with one another: all of the world is reconstructed now: and I am reconstructed: not to recognize any of that, which lorded over my soul before this: but Mama will close the piano I will forget everything, I will not recall: it returns back with the return of the roulade: the fold-out can-dlesticks illumine Mama with burning candles; Mama closes the lip: the black boxthe piano; the picture of Marcian hung over it with its withdrawing distances (I withdrew into these distances, pressed by the heavy frame); the wall candleholders lightly turned bronze; and over the oak table from a fruit circle the glass lamp with a seethrough hemi-sphere was hung resoundingly with a quiet rattling on a bronze chain; the pull-up shades showed through with flying lights from walnut strong baguets; under them the leaves of spread-apart palms lay flat; from the window sills, from the windows, from the white wicker baskets, even from the floor; from the corner, to the ceiling, went out a tossed out rhododendron; and therea wooden clock head hissed the hours; under it blackened, just like a Negro, amazing one on all fours, a folding card table; along the walls and windows evened out by their bent backs were the chairs with the wicker seats, ready to fly about any way you like; arranged this way and that; andagain to fly back to the walls. . . . . . The open door led out into the drawing room; everything here isolive: the walls, wallpaper, curtains, wall drapes, brocatel, or the satin upholstery, of the furniture; the general impression: beautiful, but hownameless! All the objects keep quiet; here everything istimeless; everything here is exitless, atmosphereless, voiceless; everything isnameless; an illusion: placed up to vision; put aside, it will benon-illusory; but there is no place to put it aside; the illusionstands! And the lantern hangs from a fashioned fruitwood circle like a facetless, dull-blownup; in the evening it timidly emanates a loss of faded light; there stands between white doors, covered with an olive damask, a stocky roundtopped walnut cabinet: on ittwo goddesses, two tiny, alabaster statuettes, and between them precisely came through weighty with yellowing gold the bronze of the high stand of the light-giving hexacandelabrum (itimpresses one by its beauty without candles), threelegged touching the cabinet and raising with yellowing from the gold a sacrificial altar (a bronze one) in the shape of the beginning of a fountain, curled with a garland, where twisted heads of bronze, yellow rams clench with their lips assortments of garlands; on the fountain grew a curlygolden vase, from the body of which some kind of degenerates showed their pusses; the leafy metal of its very-very high pivot ended in a flowery golden blow-up, a bronze bend of delicate fivebranches and delicate rosettes of the candlesticks; the top was crowned with a sixth rosette; the interweaving of the capricious curls of metal occupied me;I loved to observe the candelabrum; and I loved the olive soft divan, raising its back with the high, walnut, cutwork edge; four walnut, cutwork pusses grinned from the edge; among thema cutwork of curls; I look,and I want to bite the pusses: they are chocolate colored. And of such a color is the walnut, cutwork solid dining oval, raised by the bend of firm walnut blow-upsof the three legs, curled with a garland of fruits and touching with its lionpawed cutwork the carpet; on it plushly dulled the tablecloth, hanging over the legs with fringe and long ragamuffin; yes, I lookedinto the motley of this tablecloth, colored through and through with black rustyish background, where three motley colors curled chasing one after another in spirals, com-plicating a flowerlike ornamentorange, rusty and yellow, rarely dis-turbed by a blueeye, therea redeye, but in general giving the looka tigery one; the wiped carpet, also tigery, as if of such compositions, lay flat under the table, under four squatting, very spreadpawed arm-chairs;their gesture was to me a suitably frightening look of four professors squatting on their haunches, their hands placed on their knees; four deans squatted here on their haunches: to sit in conference; and the cutter had carved them out; and the polisher covered them with lacquer; the pitiless upholsterer upholstered their knees with satin: the four deans becamesquatting armchairs! And arriving guests sat on them: they composed their restlessnesses from words, their rapid shorthand of incoherent words; here ladies sat like beans;and leafed through albums under the lampshade, satiny olive, with blonde laces; here through the rustling of skirts and fluttering of little mouths is borne to me the deep bass of a coarse voice: everything becomes lacey; and there waftperfumy spirits; among the ladies I observed a spe-cial, dumb conversation, turned toward one another; andcomposed of gestures; they would announce to one another some bits of information which are to me and to the men completely ununderstandable; one lady would cry out to another lady: How pale you are! The ladymaintains silence, but she pulls up her little head to the lady and raises her brows: with the hands of both little arms one placed in front of the other she indicates the bottom of her stomach, barely sticking out her lips; the other immediately guesses, barely nodding; and she quickly changes the conversation, having received a clarification. For me there is noclarification!.. I observe in the corner a threelegged cabinet: a sideless cabinet! On it is arranged a white-headpiece of dolls; this ischina: a shepherd, a shepherdess in a straw hat, in a china, in a rose skirt, a gray pug-dog; andan Italian, painted (brightbrown and with an ocarina in his hands) and some sort of Berendei-plaything; and a headless Chinaman; and a multitudinous multitude of very occupying things exist timelessly here; many arm-chairs, curtains, brocatels on the furniture; everything is so beautiful, but everything is so exitless, atmosphereless, voiceless; everything isnameless, an illusion: placed up to vision; put asideby sounds; sounds fly in, reconstructing everything and attuning the new. . . . . . . Mrmlyagives out here! Mrmlya a very complicated chord: it lies down with a teary, wet sourness on the keys; and with septaccords and nonaccords it is conducted: a black little bonere; dlya-dlya-dlya is a triad; mrmlya a very complicated chord: shouts out, like Almochka; no, louder than Almochka: it converses, like Mama: everything flickered, everything began to wink into my soul; the candlesticks began to tinkle in little circles; the walls are pulled up, they grew; just as if they had widened out to the height of the ceiling; they delved deeply and became impossibly lookthrough already on little wheels one armchair is wheeled to an armchair; on tiptoes, suddenly having flown through and heightening from the bursting sounds,it stands! In the music something limitless is imaged: Granny, I, Auntie Dotya, Dunyasha,we understand; Papadoesnt: here he exits to howl from time to time in the sounds; and to sing clarifications, setting the limit: Yes, Lizochek: of course Music is mathematics which has not achieved clarity Leibniz still saidhe attempts to flare up with a green spark, like Mamas faceted earrings. Here the very rational clarity of the French thinkers helpshe attempts to flare up anew with red clarity; but not he flares up, but once again the earrings flared. Mist! Its the Germans letting loose the mist! But the clarity of French thinkers bursts under the sounds of Schumann: he does not understand music; andhe calls everything that gallops along the keys therea shooing noise: not Schumann; there gallops not a shooing noise, but a gay little pension of tiny girls; allin pelerines, and tra-lya-lya-lya: the little girls began to run, the whole pension skipping: quickly they organized in pairs; skipping, quickly they passed into the corridor: the corridor door closed: the piano is closed: the candlesticks go out  The Christened Chinaman Spring  vx - rifications, setting the limit: Yes, Lizochek: of course Music is mathematics which has not achieved clarity Leibniz still saidhe attempts to flare up with a green spark, like Mama's faceted earrings. 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