The wind twirls the snow, wildly carrying snowflakes on his
light wings; he plays.... Playing, he instills his own order on the streets....
Here on the corner of Pushkin and Kapluniv Streets, he constructs a complete
snow fortress, while on the other side of Pushkin, he conscientiously sweeps
the snow, as if with a broom, exposing a slippery and bare, ice-covered spot....
And Frost, the Joker himself, is playing; he pinches the air with, for Kharkiv,
an unprecedented low temperature of minus 38 degrees Centigrade....
Down the center of Pushkin Street two women lumber a small
sleigh toward Pushkin Cemetery, one harnessed to the sleigh in front, the other
pushing from behind.... On the sleigh, tightly fastened with a thick rope, lies
a corpse wrapped in a gray blanket.... Its legs hang from the sleigh rigid and
unbendable, like two logs.... Two weird, thick stumps protrude from beneath the
This funeral does not arouse any curiosity from the many
pedestrians.... Preoccupied, they run quickly past, huddled, hiding as deeply
as possible their blue, generally puffy faces beneath the collars of their
On the windswept and ice-covered spots, the sleigh with the
corpse slides by itself and the two women run after it, fruitlessly trying to
catch up to the corpse, which bravely glides toward the cemetery, having stuck
out its weird thick stumps of numb legs....