At seventy as well. There's just reality and light. There's neither death nor darkness in this world. At last we all have reached the shore, And I'm the one who casts a fishing rod. When immortality is coming in a shoal. Live in a house, and it'll never fall. To any ofthe centuries I'd nod. And enter it, a house I'd install. That's why with me your children share board, Your wives join me at my table, and all. One table serves both granddad and grandchild:. The future's being made right now. Whenever I'm to raise my hand in tide, I all five rays of it on you bestow.
With collarbones, as ifwith timber work, I propped up every day of past age. I measured time by a world-wide walk,
I passed through it like through the Urals range. I chose the age up to my own measure. We headed south, with dust flying away, The weeds smoked up, and at his own leisure, His feeler on the horseshoe, the grasshopper forecast.
We'll be quiet. He's such a darling.
He prophesied me death, as if he were a monk. But with my fate strapped to my saddle fast, I'm riding now in the time to come. And surging on the stirrups to my own drum.
You can't move them.
My immortality is quite enough for me. For my own blood to flow ages through, For steady warmth and a haven safe and true. I'd give my life self-willingly and freely, Had not its volatile, needle-like sword.
Been leading me, like a thread, throughout the world.
Marousia? And the children? Where are the children? I'm going to tell everybody that you've stolen the book. What? I will, you'll see. Now stop it! Go on, tell everybody! I will, anyway! You could have come more often. You know that he's missing you. Let lgnat live with me. Are you serious? You said yourself that he would like to. With you it's better to keep one's mouth shut. You mean I'm inventing this for my own pleasure? Let's ask him. Whatever he decides. Besides, it will make your life much easier. Why would this make it easier for me? Have you collected your books? Go say goodbye to your father. Your mother and I would like to ask you.
Wouldn't it be better ifyou lived with me?
Good boy. Not like our booby.
You and I will live together. Haven't you said so to your mother?
Come here. I'm leaving.
Said what? When? No, please. We really look alike, don't we? Not at all! What do you want from your mother? What kind of relationship? The kind of relationship you had in your childhood is impossible.
Get married as soon as possible.
You speak of some feeling of guilt, Of her life being ruined because of you. Well, you can't get away from it. And what she needs is for you to become a baby again, For her to be able to carry you and protect you. Why on earth am I meddling in it? It's always like this. Why are you whimpering? Explain it.