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毓夭賱丞 氐丕禺亘丞 噩丿丕
賳卮乇 亘賵賴賵賲賷賱 賴乇丕亘丕賱 賴匕賴 丕賱乇賵丕賷丞 亘賳賮爻賴 賮賷 毓丕賲 1976貙 賵賱賲 鬲購賳卮乇 乇爻賲賷丕賸 丨鬲賶 丕賱毓丕賲 1989 亘爻亘亘 乇賯丕亘丞 丕賱丿賵賱丞 丕賱亘賵賱賷爻賷丞 賵賯鬲賴丕. 鬲乇賵賷 "毓夭賱丞 氐丕禺亘丞 噩丿丕" 賯氐丞 乇噩賱 毓噩賵夭 兀亘賱賴 賷毓賲賱 賮賷 廿鬲賱丕賮 丕賱賵乇賯 賮賷 亘乇丕睾貨 賷丨賮馗 賵賷噩賲毓 兀毓丿丕丿丕賸 賰亘賷乇丞 賲賳 丕賱賲禺胤賵胤丕鬲 賵丕賱賰鬲亘 丕賱賳丕丿乇丞 賵丕賱賲丨馗賵乇丞 賲賳 禺賱丕賱 毓賲賱賴. 賴賷 丨賰丕賷丞 噩丕賲毓 賲毓乇賮丞 賲賴賵賵爻 賷賳鬲氐乇 毓賱賶 丕賱丿賵賱丞 丕賱亘賵賱賷爻賷丞 丕賱鬲賷 兀乇丕丿鬲 兀賳 鬲賳鬲氐乇 毓賱賶 丕賱賲毓乇賮丞 ...
賷賯賵賱 毓賳賴 賲賷賱丕賳 賰賵賳丿賷乇丕: "兀賮囟賱 賰鬲賾丕亘賳丕 丕賱賷賵賲". 賵兀賷囟丕賸: 芦賰鬲丕亘 賵丕丨丿賹 賲賳 賰鬲亘賽 亘賵賴賵賲賷賱 賴乇丕亘丕賱貙 賷禺鬲氐乇 賰賱賾 賲丕 毓噩夭賳丕 賳丨賳 噩賲賷毓丕賸 毓賳 鬲賯丿賷賲賴 賱兀噩賱 廿賳爻丕賳 賲鬲丨乇乇貙 乇睾賲 賰賱 賲丕 賳賮毓賱賴 亘廿賷丨丕亍丕鬲賳丕 賵丕丨鬲噩丕噩丕鬲賳丕 丕賱氐賾丕禺亘丞".
兀賲丕 毓賳 丕賱賰鬲丕亘 賮鬲賰鬲亘 丕賱賳賷賵賷賵乇賰 鬲丕賷賲夭: "賴乇丕亘丕賱 賴賵 氐乇禺丞 囟丿 賳賴丕賷丞 丕賱廿賳爻丕賳賷丞貙 賵賰鬲丕亘賴 "毓夭賱丞 氐丕禺亘丞 噩丿丕賸" 賴賵 廿賳賯丕匕 賲賳 丕賱賱丕賲亘丕賱丕丞 丕賱賯丕鬲賱丞 丕賱賮毓丕賱丞 賮賷 賯鬲賱 丕賱丨乇賮 兀賰孬乇 賲賳 兀卮丿賾 丌賱丕鬲 丕賱廿鬲賱丕賮 鬲毓賯賷丿丕賸".
賰賲丕 賳賯乇兀 賮賷 氐丨賷賮丞 丕賱睾丕乇丿賷丕賳: "兀胤賱賯鬲 丨賰丕賷丕鬲 亘賵賴賵賲賷賱 賴乇丕亘丕賱 毓賳 丕賱賳丕爻 丕賱毓丕丿賷賷賳 孬賵乇丞 爻賷賳賲丕卅賷丞 賮賷 賵胤賳賴貙 賵兀氐亘丨鬲 丕賱丨丕賳丞 丕賱鬲賷 丕毓鬲丕丿 毓賱賶 丕乇鬲賷丕丿賴丕 賮賷 亘乇丕睾 賲夭丕乇丕賸 賱賰亘丕乇 丕賱卮禺氐賷丕鬲. 兀孬亘鬲 賴乇丕亘丕賱 兀賳賴 兀爻胤賵乇丞 夭賲賳賴".
賷賯賵賱 毓賳賴 賲賷賱丕賳 賰賵賳丿賷乇丕: "兀賮囟賱 賰鬲賾丕亘賳丕 丕賱賷賵賲". 賵兀賷囟丕賸: 芦賰鬲丕亘 賵丕丨丿賹 賲賳 賰鬲亘賽 亘賵賴賵賲賷賱 賴乇丕亘丕賱貙 賷禺鬲氐乇 賰賱賾 賲丕 毓噩夭賳丕 賳丨賳 噩賲賷毓丕賸 毓賳 鬲賯丿賷賲賴 賱兀噩賱 廿賳爻丕賳 賲鬲丨乇乇貙 乇睾賲 賰賱 賲丕 賳賮毓賱賴 亘廿賷丨丕亍丕鬲賳丕 賵丕丨鬲噩丕噩丕鬲賳丕 丕賱氐賾丕禺亘丞".
兀賲丕 毓賳 丕賱賰鬲丕亘 賮鬲賰鬲亘 丕賱賳賷賵賷賵乇賰 鬲丕賷賲夭: "賴乇丕亘丕賱 賴賵 氐乇禺丞 囟丿 賳賴丕賷丞 丕賱廿賳爻丕賳賷丞貙 賵賰鬲丕亘賴 "毓夭賱丞 氐丕禺亘丞 噩丿丕賸" 賴賵 廿賳賯丕匕 賲賳 丕賱賱丕賲亘丕賱丕丞 丕賱賯丕鬲賱丞 丕賱賮毓丕賱丞 賮賷 賯鬲賱 丕賱丨乇賮 兀賰孬乇 賲賳 兀卮丿賾 丌賱丕鬲 丕賱廿鬲賱丕賮 鬲毓賯賷丿丕賸".
賰賲丕 賳賯乇兀 賮賷 氐丨賷賮丞 丕賱睾丕乇丿賷丕賳: "兀胤賱賯鬲 丨賰丕賷丕鬲 亘賵賴賵賲賷賱 賴乇丕亘丕賱 毓賳 丕賱賳丕爻 丕賱毓丕丿賷賷賳 孬賵乇丞 爻賷賳賲丕卅賷丞 賮賷 賵胤賳賴貙 賵兀氐亘丨鬲 丕賱丨丕賳丞 丕賱鬲賷 丕毓鬲丕丿 毓賱賶 丕乇鬲賷丕丿賴丕 賮賷 亘乇丕睾 賲夭丕乇丕賸 賱賰亘丕乇 丕賱卮禺氐賷丕鬲. 兀孬亘鬲 賴乇丕亘丕賱 兀賳賴 兀爻胤賵乇丞 夭賲賳賴".
112 pages, Paperback
First published January 1, 1976
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About the author
Bohumil Hrabal
193听books1,246听followersBorn in Brno-沤idenice, Moravia, he lived briefly in Poln谩, but was raised in the Nymburk brewery as the manager's stepson.
Hrabal received a Law degree from Prague's Charles University, and lived in the city from the late 1940s on.
He worked as a manual laborer alongside Vladim铆r Boudn铆k in the Kladno ironworks in the 1950s, an experience which inspired the "hyper-realist" texts he was writing at the time.
His best known novels were Closely Watched Trains (1965) and I Served the King of England. In 1965 he bought a cottage in Kersko, which he used to visit till the end of his life, and where he kept cats ("ko膷enky").
He was a great storyteller; his popular pub was At the Golden Tiger (U zlat茅ho tygra) on Husova Street in Prague, where he met the Czech President V谩clav Havel, the American President Bill Clinton and the then-US ambassador to the UN Madeleine Albright on January 11th, 1994.
Several of his works were not published in Czechoslovakia due to the objections of the authorities, including The Little Town Where Time Stood Still (M臎ste膷ko, kde se zastavil 膷as) and I Served the King of England (Obsluhoval jsem anglick茅ho kr谩le).
He died when he fell from a fifth floor hospital where he was apparently trying to feed pigeons. It was noted that Hrabal lived on the fifth floor of his apartment building and that suicides by leaping from a fifth-floor window were mentioned in several of his books.
He was buried in a family grave in the cemetery in Hradi拧tko. In the same grave his mother "Mary拧ka", step father "Francin", uncle "Pepin", wife "Pipsi" and brother "Sl谩vek" were buried.
He wrote with an expressive, highly visual style, often using long sentences; in fact his work Dancing Lessons for the Advanced in Age (1964) (Tane膷n铆 hodiny pro star拧铆 a pokro膷il茅) is made up of just one sentence. Many of Hrabal's characters are portrayed as "wise fools" - simpletons with occasional or inadvertent profound thoughts - who are also given to coarse humour, lewdness, and a determination to survive and enjoy oneself despite harsh circumstances. Political quandaries and their concomitant moral ambiguities are also a recurrent theme.
Along with Jaroslav Ha拧ek, Karel 膶apek, and Milan Kundera - who were also imaginative and amusing satirists - he is considered one of the greatest Czech writers of the 20th century. His works have been translated into 27 languages.
Hrabal received a Law degree from Prague's Charles University, and lived in the city from the late 1940s on.
He worked as a manual laborer alongside Vladim铆r Boudn铆k in the Kladno ironworks in the 1950s, an experience which inspired the "hyper-realist" texts he was writing at the time.
His best known novels were Closely Watched Trains (1965) and I Served the King of England. In 1965 he bought a cottage in Kersko, which he used to visit till the end of his life, and where he kept cats ("ko膷enky").
He was a great storyteller; his popular pub was At the Golden Tiger (U zlat茅ho tygra) on Husova Street in Prague, where he met the Czech President V谩clav Havel, the American President Bill Clinton and the then-US ambassador to the UN Madeleine Albright on January 11th, 1994.
Several of his works were not published in Czechoslovakia due to the objections of the authorities, including The Little Town Where Time Stood Still (M臎ste膷ko, kde se zastavil 膷as) and I Served the King of England (Obsluhoval jsem anglick茅ho kr谩le).
He died when he fell from a fifth floor hospital where he was apparently trying to feed pigeons. It was noted that Hrabal lived on the fifth floor of his apartment building and that suicides by leaping from a fifth-floor window were mentioned in several of his books.
He was buried in a family grave in the cemetery in Hradi拧tko. In the same grave his mother "Mary拧ka", step father "Francin", uncle "Pepin", wife "Pipsi" and brother "Sl谩vek" were buried.
He wrote with an expressive, highly visual style, often using long sentences; in fact his work Dancing Lessons for the Advanced in Age (1964) (Tane膷n铆 hodiny pro star拧铆 a pokro膷il茅) is made up of just one sentence. Many of Hrabal's characters are portrayed as "wise fools" - simpletons with occasional or inadvertent profound thoughts - who are also given to coarse humour, lewdness, and a determination to survive and enjoy oneself despite harsh circumstances. Political quandaries and their concomitant moral ambiguities are also a recurrent theme.
Along with Jaroslav Ha拧ek, Karel 膶apek, and Milan Kundera - who were also imaginative and amusing satirists - he is considered one of the greatest Czech writers of the 20th century. His works have been translated into 27 languages.
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July 31, 2017
亘賵乇禺爻: 賱匕鬲蹖 倬蹖趩蹖丿賴 鬲乇 丕夭 賱匕鬲 鬲賮讴乇 賵噩賵丿 賳丿丕乇丿
賴丕蹖賳乇蹖卮 賴丕蹖賳賴 卮丕毓乇蹖 蹖賴賵丿蹖- 丌賱賲丕賳蹖 丿賵 倬蹖卮诏賵蹖蹖 丿丕乇丿 讴賴 氐乇蹖丨 鬲乇 丕夭 倬蹖卮诏賵蹖蹖 賴丕蹖 賳賵爻鬲乇丕丿丕賲賵爻 賵 亘爻蹖丕乇 賵丨卮鬲賳丕讴鬲乇 丕夭 丌賳丕賳 丕爻鬲: 蹖讴蹖 丿乇亘丕乇賴 爻賵夭丕賳丿賳 讴鬲丕亘賴丕 賵 丕賳爻丕賳賴丕 亘丿爻鬲 賮丕卮蹖爻鬲 賴丕蹖 丌賱賲丕賳蹖 賵 丿蹖诏乇蹖 丿乇亘丕乇賴 丌蹖賳丿賴 賴賳乇 賵 讴鬲丕亘賴丕 丿乇 噩賴丕賳蹖 讴賲賵賳蹖爻鬲蹖. 丕賵 蹖讴 賯乇賳 倬蹖卮 丕夭 亘賵賯賵毓 倬蹖賵爻鬲賳 趩賳蹖賳 賵賯丕蹖毓 丿乇丿賳丕讴 賵 禺賵賳蹖賳蹖 丿乇 鬲丕乇蹖禺 亘卮乇蹖鬲貙 丌賳 乇丕 亘丕 丕賳丿蹖卮賴 亘賱賳丿倬乇賵丕夭丕賳賴鈥屰� 禺賵丿 賵 卮賳丕禺鬲蹖 讴賴 丕夭 賲賮丕賴蹖賲 讴賲賵賳蹖爻鬲蹖 賵 禺賵蹖 禺賵丿亘乇鬲乇亘蹖賳蹖 跇乇賲賳 賴丕 丿丕卮鬲貙 倬蹖卮 亘蹖賳蹖 讴乇丿. 丿乇亘丕乇賴 丨丕讴賲蹖鬲 讴賲賵賳蹖爻鬲 賴丕 賲蹖 诏賵蹖丿
丕蹖賳 丕毓鬲乇丕賮 乇丕 讴賴 丌蹖賳丿賴 丕夭 丌賳 讴賲賵賳蹖爻鬲 賴丕 禺賵丕賴丿 亘賵丿 亘丕 亘蹖賲 賮乇丕賵丕賳 賵 賳诏乇丕賳蹖 卮丿蹖丿 丕亘乇丕夭 賲蹖 丿丕乇賲 賵 丕賮爻賵爻!... 亘丕 賵丨卮鬲 賵 賴乇丕爻 丿乇 賮讴乇 夭賲丕賳蹖 賴爻鬲賲 讴賴 丌蹖讴賵賳賵讴賱丕爻鬲鈥屬囏� 亘賴 賯丿乇鬲 亘乇爻賳丿: 丌賳賴丕 亘丕 賲卮鬲 賴丕蹖 夭賲禺鬲卮丕賳 賴賲賴鈥屰� 賳睾賲賴 賴丕蹖 鬲禺蹖賱 亘乇丕賳诏蹖夭 讴賵丿讴丕賳賴 丕蹖 乇丕 讴賴 卮丕毓乇丕賳 丿賵爻鬲丿丕乇 丌賳 亘賵丿賳丿貙 丕夭 賲蹖丕賳 賲蹖 亘乇賳丿貙 噩賳诏賱 鬲賲卮讴賲 乇丕 丕乇賴 賲蹖 讴賳賳丿 賵 噩丕蹖 丌賳 爻蹖亘 夭賲蹖賳蹖 賲蹖 讴丕乇賳丿. 賵 丕賮爻賵爻 讴賴 讴鬲丕亘 "賳睾賲賴 賴丕"蹖賲 乇丕 亘賯丕賱 賴丕蹖 丿賵乇賴 诏乇丿 賵乇賯 賵乇賯 禺賵丕賴賳丿 讴乇丿 賵 亘乇丕蹖 倬蹖乇夭賳丕賳 丌蹖賳丿賴 丿乇 丌賳 賯賴賵賴 蹖丕 丕賳賮蹖賴 禺賵丕賴賳丿 乇蹖禺鬲. 丌賴! 賵賯鬲蹖 亘賴 丕賮賵賱蹖 賮讴乇 賲蹖 讴賳賲 讴賴 亘丕 丌賳 卮毓乇賴丕蹖 賲賳 賵 賴賲賴鈥屰� 賳馗賲 讴賴賳 噩賴丕賳蹖 丕夭 爻賵蹖 讴賲賵賳蹖爻賲 鬲賴丿蹖丿 賲蹖 卮賵丿 賴賲賴 趩蹖夭 乇丕 倬蹖卮丕倬蹖卮 賲蹖 亘蹖賳賲 賵 丕賳丿賵賴蹖 賳丕诏賮鬲賳蹖 亘乇 丿賱賲 趩賳诏 賲蹖 夭賳丿
讴鬲丕亘 鬲賳賴丕蹖蹖 倬乇 賴蹖丕賴賵 卮丕賴丿蹖 丕爻鬲 亘乇 丕蹖賳 倬蹖卮 亘蹖賳蹖貨
丿丕爻鬲丕賳蹖 丿乇 賲賵乇丿 賲乇诏 賽 讴鬲丕亘賴丕 賵 丌孬丕乇 賴賳乇蹖 賳賯丕卮丕賳
...讴賴 丿乇 噩丕賲毓賴 讴賲賵賳蹖爻鬲蹖 賳賯卮 讴丕睾匕 亘丕胤賱賴 乇丕 倬蹖丿丕 讴乇丿賴 丕賳丿
賴丕賳鬲丕 蹖讴蹖 丕夭 讴爻丕賳蹖 丕爻鬲 讴賴 亘丕 倬乇爻 讴乇丿賳 丕蹖賳 亘馗丕賴乇 讴丕睾匕 亘丕胤賱賴 賴丕 夭賳丿诏蹖卮 乇丕 賲蹖 诏匕乇丕賳丿貨 爻蹖 賵 倬賳噩 爻丕賱 丕爻鬲 讴賴 丿乇 讴丕乇 讴丕睾匕 亘丕胤賱賴 賴爻鬲賲 賵 丕蹖賳 芦賯氐賴鈥屰� 毓丕卮賯丕賳賴禄 賲賳 丕爻鬲
賯氐賴 毓丕卮賯丕賳賴 丕賵 丌卮賳丕蹖蹖 亘丕 讴鬲丕亘賴丕 賵 卮丕賴讴丕乇 賴丕蹖 亘夭乇诏 丕丿亘蹖 丕爻鬲 賵 趩蹖夭賴丕蹖蹖 讴賴 丕夭 丕蹖賳 丌孬丕乇 賲蹖 丌賲賵夭丿. 丕賵 亘乇禺蹖 丕夭 丕蹖賳 讴鬲丕亘賴丕 乇丕 亘賴 禺丕賳賴 丕卮 賲蹖 亘乇丿 鬲丕 丕夭 賳丕亘賵丿 卮丿賳 賳噩丕鬲 倬蹖丿丕 讴賳賳丿
丕賲丕 賴賲丕賳胤賵乇 讴賴 賴丕蹖賳賴 賲蹖 诏賵蹖丿: 賵 丕賮爻賵爻 讴賴 讴鬲丕亘 "賳睾賲賴 賴丕"蹖賲 乇丕 亘賯丕賱 賴丕蹖 丿賵乇賴 诏乇丿 賵乇賯 賵乇賯 禺賵丕賴賳丿 讴乇丿 賵 亘乇丕蹖 倬蹖乇夭賳丕賳 丌蹖賳丿賴 丿乇 丌賳 賯賴賵賴 蹖丕 丕賳賮蹖賴 禺賵丕賴賳丿 乇蹖禺鬲
倬蹖卮 亘蹖賳蹖 賴丕蹖賳賴 亘賴 賵賯賵毓 賲蹖 倬蹖賵賳丿丿 賵 毓丕賯亘鬲 丿爻鬲诏丕賴 賴丕蹖 亘夭乇诏鬲乇蹖 爻丕禺鬲賴 賲蹖 卮賵丿 鬲丕 亘丕 爻乇毓鬲 亘蹖卮鬲乇蹖 讴鬲丕亘賴丕 丕夭 亘蹖賳 亘乇賵賳丿. 賵 讴丕乇诏乇丕賳 爻賵爻蹖丕賱蹖爻鬲蹖 讴賴 噩丕蹖 賴丕賳鬲丕 乇丕 賲蹖 诏蹖乇賳丿 賵 丌禺乇蹖賳 讴爻丕賳蹖 賴爻鬲賳丿 讴賴 丕蹖賳 讴鬲丕亘賴丕 乇丕 賲蹖 亘蹖賳賳丿貙 賮賯胤 亘賴 賮讴乇 爻乇蹖毓 讴丕乇 讴乇丿賳 賵 禺賲蹖乇 讴乇丿賳 讴鬲丕亘賴丕 賴爻鬲賳丿貨 亘賴 丌賳趩賴 賮讴乇 賳賲蹖 讴賳賳丿 賳诏丕賴 讴乇丿賳 賵 禺賵丕賳丿賳 賵 睾乇賯 卮丿賳 丿乇 讴鬲丕亘賴丕爻鬲
丿乇 丕蹖賳 噩丕賲毓賴 讴爻蹖 亘賴 賮讴乇 賱匕鬲 賴丕蹖 倬蹖趩蹖丿賴 賵 毓賲蹖賯 丕賳丿蹖卮蹖丿賳 賳蹖爻鬲 賵 丿乇 丌賵乇丿賳 賳丕賳 賵 賱匕鬲 賴丕蹖 夭賵丿诏匕乇 賵 爻胤丨蹖 賲賴賲鬲乇 丕夭 賴乇 趩蹖夭蹖 丕爻鬲
賴賲賴 丕蹖賳 趩蹖夭賴丕貙 賴丕賳鬲丕 亘賴 丕蹖賳 賳鬲蹖噩賴 鬲賱禺 賲蹖 乇爻丕賳丿 讴賴 丕賳爻丕賳 丕賳丿蹖卮賲賳丿 丿乇 丕蹖賳 噩丕賲毓賴 噩丕蹖蹖 賳丿丕乇丿
賵 丿乇 賲蹖 蹖丕亘丿 丿乇 丕蹖賳 爻乇夭賲蹖賳 蹖讴 亘蹖 賯丕亘賱蹖鬲 丕爻鬲 賴賲趩賵賳 賴賲賴 讴鬲丕亘賴丕蹖蹖 讴賴 丕夭 亘蹖賳 賲蹖 乇賵賳丿
丕賵 丌賳賯丿乇 賲蹖 賳賵卮丿 鬲丕 丿蹖诏乇 卮讴蹖 丿乇 鬲氐賲蹖賲卮 賳丿丕卮鬲賴 亘丕卮丿
...鬲丕 讴丕賲賱丕 丕夭 倬丕 丿乇 賳蹖丕賲丿賴 丕蹖賲 噩賵賴乇 賵丕賯毓蹖 禺賵丿 乇丕 亘乇賵夭 賳賲蹖 丿賴蹖賲
亘賴 噩丕蹖 亘爻鬲賴 亘賳丿蹖 讴丕睾匕賴丕蹖 爻賮蹖丿 丿乇 趩丕倬禺丕賳賴 賲賱丕賳鬲乇蹖禺 丿賳亘丕賱 乇丕賴 爻賯乇丕胤 賵 爻賴 賳賴 讴丕 禺賵丕賴賲 乇賮鬲貙 賵 丕蹖賳噩丕貙 丿乇 丕蹖賳 爻乇丿丕亘賴 賵 丿乇 丕蹖賳 倬乇爻貙 禺賵丿貙 爻賯賵胤 禺賵蹖卮 乇丕 亘乇禺賵丕賴賲 诏夭蹖丿貙 爻賯賵胤蹖 讴賴 毓乇賵噩 丕爻鬲
賯爻賲鬲 賴丕蹖蹖 丕夭 讴鬲丕亘
禺賵丿 乇丕 趩賳丕賳 亘丕 讴賱賲丕鬲 毓噩蹖賳 讴乇丿賴 丕賲 讴賴 丿蹖诏乇 亘賴 賴蹖卅鬲 丿丕賳卮賳丕賲賴 賴丕蹖蹖 丿乇 丌賲丿賴 丕賲 讴賴 胤蹖 丕蹖賳 爻丕賱賴丕 爻賴 鬲購賳蹖 丕夭 丌賳賴丕 禺賲蹖乇 讴乇丿賴 丕賲. 爻亘賵蹖蹖 賴爻鬲賲 倬乇 丕夭 丌亘 夭賳丿诏丕賳蹖 賵 賲乇丿诏丕賳蹖貙 讴賴 讴丕賮蹖 丕爻鬲 讴賲蹖 亘賴 蹖讴 爻賵 禺賲 卮賵賲 鬲丕 丕夭 賲賳 爻蹖賱 丕賮讴丕乇 夭蹖亘丕 噩丕乇蹖 卮賵丿. 丌賲賵夭卮賲 趩賳丕賳 賳丕禺賵丿丌诏丕賴 氐賵乇鬲 诏乇賮鬲賴 讴賴 賳賲蹖 丿丕賳賲 讴丿丕賲 賮讴乇蹖 丕夭 禺賵丿賲 丕爻鬲 賵 賵 讴丿丕賲 丕夭 讴鬲丕亘賴丕蹖賲 賳丕卮蹖 卮丿賴. 賵賯鬲蹖 趩蹖夭蹖 乇丕 賲蹖 禺賵丕賳賲貙 丿乇 賵丕賯毓 賳賲蹖 禺賵丕賳賲. 噩賲賱賴 丕蹖 夭蹖亘丕 乇丕 亘賴 丿賴丕賳 賲蹖 丕賳丿丕夭賲 賵 賲孬賱 丌亘 賳亘丕鬲 賲蹖鈥屬呞┵呚� 蹖丕 賲孬賱 賱蹖讴賵乇蹖 賲蹖鈥屬嗁堌促呚� 鬲丕 丌賳讴賴 丕賳丿蹖卮賴貙 賲孬賱 丕賱讴賱貙 丿乇 賵噩賵丿 賲賳 丨賱 卮賵丿貙 鬲丕 丿乇 丿賱賲 賳賮賵匕 讴賳丿 賵 丿乇 乇诏賴丕蹖賲 噩丕乇蹖 卮賵丿 賵 亘賴 乇蹖卮賴 賴乇 诏賱亘賵賱 禺賵賳蹖 亘乇爻丿
賵賯鬲蹖 趩卮賲丕賳賲 亘賴 讴鬲丕亘 丿乇爻鬲 賵 丨爻丕亘蹖 賲蹖 丕賮鬲丿 賵 讴賱賲丕鬲 趩丕倬 卮丿賴 乇丕 讴賳丕乇 賲蹖 夭賳賲貙 丕夭 賲鬲賳 趩蹖夭蹖 噩夭 丕賳丿蹖卮賴 賴丕蹖 賲噩乇丿 亘丕賯蹖 賳賲蹖 賲丕賳丿. 丕賳丿蹖卮賴 賴丕蹖蹖 讴賴 丿乇 賴賵丕 噩乇蹖丕賳 賵 爻蹖賱丕賳 丿丕乇賳丿貙 丕夭 賴賵丕 夭賳丿賴 丕賳丿 賵 亘賴 賴賵丕 亘乇 賲蹖 诏乇丿賳丿貙 趩賵賳 讴賴 丌禺乇 賵 毓丕賯亘鬲 賴乇 趩蹖夭蹖 賴賵丕爻鬲貙 賴賲 馗乇賮 賵 賴賲 賲馗乇賵賮. 賳丕賳 丿乇 賲乇丕爻賲 毓卮丕亍 乇亘丕賳蹖 丕夭 賴賵丕爻鬲 賵 賳賴 丕夭 禺賵賳 賲爻蹖丨
爻蹖 賵 倬賳噩 爻丕賱 丕爻鬲 讴賴 丿丕乇賲 亘蹖 賵賯賮賴 丌亘噩賵 賲蹖 禺賵乇賲. 賳賴 丕賳讴賴 丕夭 丕蹖賳 讴丕乇 禺賵卮賲 亘蹖丕丿. 丕夭 賲蹖禺賵丕乇賴 賴丕 亘蹖夭丕乇賲. 賲蹖 賳賵卮賲 鬲丕 亘賴鬲乇 賮讴乇 讴賳賲貙 鬲丕 亘賴 賯賱亘 丌賳趩賴 賲蹖 禺賵丕賳賲 亘賴鬲乇 乇丕賴 亘蹖丕亘賲貙 趩賵賳讴賴 賲賳 賵賯鬲蹖 趩蹖夭蹖 賲蹖 禺賵丕賳賲 亘乇丕蹖 鬲賮賳賳 賵 賵賯鬲 讴卮蹖 蹖丕 亘賴鬲乇 禺賵丕亘蹖丿賳 賳蹖爻鬲貙 賲蹖 賳賵卮賲 鬲丕 丌賳趩賴 賲蹖 禺賵丕賳賲 禺賵丕亘 乇丕 丕夭 趩卮賲 賲賳 亘诏蹖乇丿貙 讴賴 賲乇丕 亘賴 乇毓卮賴 亘蹖賳丿丕夭丿貙 趩賵賳讴賴 亘丕 賴诏賱 丿乇 丕蹖賳 毓賯蹖丿賴 賴賲乇丕賴賲 讴賴 丕賳爻丕賳 卮乇蹖賮 賴乇诏夭 亘賴 丕賳丿丕夭賴 讴丕賮蹖 卮乇蹖賮 賳蹖爻鬲 賵 賴蹖趩 鬲亘賴讴丕乇蹖 賴賲 鬲賲丕賲 賵 讴賲丕賱 鬲亘賴讴丕乇 賳蹖爻鬲. 丕诏乇 賲蹖 鬲賵丕賳爻鬲賲 亘賳賵蹖爻賲 讴鬲丕亘蹖 賲蹖 賳賵卮鬲賲 丿乇亘丕乇賴 賱匕丕鬲 賵 亘夭乇诏鬲乇蹖賳 丕賳丿賵賴丕蹖 亘卮乇蹖. 丕夭 讴鬲丕亘 賵 亘賴 賲丿丿 讴鬲丕亘 丕爻鬲 讴賴 丌賲賵禺鬲賴 丕賲 讴賴 丌爻賲丕賳 亘讴賱蹖 丕夭 毓丕胤賮賴 亘蹖 亘賴乇賴 丕爻鬲
:賴丕賳鬲丕 賵 丿禺鬲乇讴 讴賵賱蹖
丿乇 蹖讴 賱丨馗賴貙 丌乇鬲賵乇 卮賵倬賳賴丕賵乇 亘賴 賳馗乇賲 乇爻蹖丿 讴賴 诏賮鬲: 亘丕賱丕鬲乇蹖賳 賴賲賴 賯賵丕賳蹖賳 毓卮賯 丕爻鬲貙 賵 毓卮賯 卮賮賯鬲 丕爻鬲
賲丕 丕賳诏丕乇 丿乇 鬲丕乇蹖讴-乇賵卮賳 亘賴 賴賲 亘蹖卮鬲乇 賳诏丕賴 賲蹖 讴乇丿蹖賲 鬲丕 丿乇 乇賵卮賳丕蹖蹖 乇賵夭貙 賵 賲賳 賴賲蹖卮賴 鬲丕乇蹖讴-乇賵卮賳 乇丕 丿賵爻鬲 丿丕卮鬲賲... 丿乇 鬲丕乇蹖讴-乇賵卮賳 賴賲賴 趩蹖夭 夭蹖亘丕鬲乇 噩賱賵賴 賲蹖 讴賳丿貙 賴賲賴鈥屰� 禺蹖丕亘丕賳賴丕 賵 賲蹖丿丕賳賴丕 賵 賲乇丿賲丕賳蹖 讴賴 丿乇 丌賳賴丕 诏匕乇 賳蹖 讴乇丿賳丿貙 賵 丨鬲蹖 禺賵丿賲 賴賲 丕蹖賳 丨爻 乇丕 丿丕卮鬲賲 讴賴 夭蹖亘丕鬲乇賲貙 噩賵丕賳 賵 夭蹖亘丕... 丿乇 鬲丕乇蹖讴-乇賵卮賳 賱丨馗賴 賴丕蹖蹖 丿乇 夭賳丿诏蹖 乇賵夭賲乇賴 賮乇丕 賲蹖 乇爻丿 讴賴 亘賴 丌賳 夭蹖亘丕 賲蹖 诏賵蹖賳丿. 丿乇 賳賵乇蹖 讴賴 丕夭 丌鬲卮 亘禺丕乇蹖 賲蹖 鬲丕亘蹖丿 丿禺鬲乇讴 讴賵賱蹖 丕夭 噩丕 亘乇 賲蹖 禺丕爻鬲 賵 乇丕賴 讴賴 賲蹖 乇賮鬲 賲蹖 丿蹖丿賲 讴賴 丿賵乇 倬蹖讴乇卮 讴賴 胤乇丨蹖 丕夭 胤賱丕 丿丕卮鬲 賴丕賱賴 丕蹖 倬蹖趩蹖丿賴 丕爻鬲... 丿禺鬲乇讴 亘毓丿 丕夭 丌賳讴賴 趩賳丿 鬲讴賴 趩賵亘 丿蹖诏乇 丿乇 丌鬲卮 賲蹖 丕賳丿丕禺鬲 賲蹖 丌賲丿 賵 讴賳丕乇 賲賳 丿乇丕夭 賲蹖 讴卮蹖丿 賵 乇賵 亘賴 賲賳 亘乇 賲蹖 诏乇丿丕賳丿 賵 亘賴 賳蹖賲乇禺賲 趩卮賲 賲蹖 丿賵禺鬲 賵 亘丕 賳賵讴 丕賳诏卮鬲 胤乇丨 亘蹖賳蹖 賵 丿賴丕賳賲 乇丕 丿賳亘丕賱 賲蹖 讴乇丿. 賴蹖趩賵賯鬲 賴賲丿蹖诏乇 丕乇 賳蹖賲 亘賵爻蹖丿蹖賲. 賴賲賴 趩蹖夭 乇丕 亘丕 丿爻鬲賴丕蹖賲丕賳 亘賴賲 賲蹖 诏賮鬲蹖賲貙 亘毓丿 賴賲丕賳胤賵乇 丿乇丕夭 讴卮蹖丿賴 丿乇 亘爻鬲乇貙 亘賴 夭亘丕賳賴 賴丕 賵 丕賳毓讴丕爻 丌鬲卮 丿乇 亘禺丕乇蹖 讴賴賳賴貙 賳诏丕賴 賲蹖 讴乇丿蹖賲 賵 亘賴 丨賱賯賴 賴丕蹖丕 賳賵乇 讴賴 丕夭 噩丕賳 丿丕丿賳 趩賵亘賴丕 亘乇 賲蹖 禺丕爻鬲. 賴蹖趩 趩蹖夭蹖 賳賲蹖 禺賵丕爻鬲蹖賲 噩夭 丕蹖賳讴賴 鬲丕 丕亘丿 亘賴 賴賲蹖賳 氐賵乇鬲 亘賴 夭賳丿诏蹖 丕丿丕賲賴 亘丿賴蹖賲貙 丕賳诏丕乇 讴賴 賯亘賱丕 賴賲賴 趩蹖夭 亘賴 賴賲 诏賮鬲賴 亘丕卮蹖賲. 丕賳诏丕乇 讴賴 鬲賵丕賲丕賳 亘賴 丿賳蹖丕 丌賲丿賴 丕蹖賲 賵 賴乇诏夭 丕夭 賴賲 噩丿丕 賳卮丿賴 丕蹖賲
蹖讴 卮亘 爻乇卮亘 讴賴 亘賴 禺丕賳賴 亘乇诏卮鬲賲 丿蹖丿賲 讴賴 丿禺鬲乇讴 讴賵賱蹖 丿乇 禺丕賳賴 賳蹖爻鬲. 趩乇丕睾 乇賵卮賳 讴乇丿賲 賵 乇賮鬲賲 亘蹖乇賵賳 賵 鬲丕 氐亘丨 胤賵賱 禺蹖丕亘丕賳 噩賱賵蹖 禺丕賳賴 乇丕 亘丕賱丕 賵 倬丕蹖蹖賳 乇賮鬲賲貙 賵賱蹖 丕孬乇蹖 丕夭 丕賵 倬蹖丿丕 賳卮丿貙 賳賴 丕賳 乇賵夭 賵 賳賴 乇賵夭 亘毓丿卮 賵 賳賴 丿蹖诏乇 賴蹖趩 賵賯鬲... 亘毓丿賴丕 賮賴賲蹖丿賲 讴賴 诏卮鬲丕倬賵 丿乇 诏卮鬲賴丕蹖 禺蹖丕亘丕賳蹖鈥屫ж� 丕賵 乇丕 丿爻鬲诏蹖乇 讴乇丿賴 賵 亘丕 蹖讴 毓丿賴 讴賵賱蹖 丿蹖诏乇 亘賴 亘丕夭丿丕卮鬲诏丕賴 賮乇爻鬲丕丿賴 賵 丕蹖賳 丿禺鬲乇 乇丕 蹖丕 丿乇亘丕夭丿丕卮鬲诏丕賴 賲丕蹖丿丕賳讴 蹖丕 丿乇 丌卮賵蹖鬲爻 丿乇 讴賵乇賴 賴丕蹖 丌丿賲 爻賵夭蹖 爻賵夭丕賳丿賴 蹖丕 丿乇 丕鬲丕賯 诏丕夭 禺賮賴 讴乇丿賴 亘賵丿賳丿. 丿禺鬲乇 丿蹖诏乇 亘乇賳诏卮鬲. 丌爻賲丕賳 毓丕胤賮賴 賳丿丕乇丿
丕賵 丕夭 夭賳丿诏蹖 趩蹖夭蹖 噩夭 丕蹖賳 賳賲蹖 禺賵丕爻鬲 讴賴 賴蹖夭賲 丿乇 亘禺丕乇蹖 亘乇蹖夭丿貙 讴賴 诏賵卮賴 丕蹖 丕夭 賳丕賳卮 乇丕 賲孬賱 鬲讴賴 賳丕賳蹖 丿乇 賲乇丕爻賲 毓卮丕 乇亘丕賳蹖 亘卮讴賳丿 賵 亘賴 丌鬲卮 丿乇賵賳 亘禺丕乇蹖 賳诏丕賴 讴賳丿貙 賲噩匕賵亘 賵 賲亘賴賵鬲 丨乇丕乇鬲 賵 夭賲夭賲賴 蹖 丕賴賳诏蹖賳 丌鬲卮蹖 讴賴 丕夭 讴賵丿讴蹖 賲蹖 卮賳丕禺鬲 賵 亘丕 賯賵賲 丕賵 倬蹖賵賳丿蹖 丿蹖乇蹖賳 賵 賲賯丿爻 丿丕卮鬲. 丌鬲卮蹖 讴賴 丿乇 丨乇丕乇鬲 賵 乇賵卮賳丕蹖蹖 丕卮貙 乇賳噩賴丕 乇丕 賮乇丕賲賵卮 賲蹖 讴乇丿 賵 賱亘禺賳丿蹖 丕賳丿賵賴诏蹖賳 亘賴 賱亘丕賳 丕賵 賲蹖 丌賵乇丿. 丕賳毓讴丕爻 禺賵卮亘禺鬲蹖 丿乇 丕賵噩
賳賴貙 丌爻賲丕賳 毓丕胤賮賴 賳丿丕乇丿貙 賵賱蹖 丕丨鬲賲丕賱丕 趩蹖夭蹖 亘丕賱丕鬲乇 丕夭 丌爻賲丕賳 賵噩賵丿 丿丕乇丿 讴賴 毓卮賯 賵 卮賮賯鬲 丕爻鬲貙 趩蹖夭蹖 讴賴 賲賳 賲丿鬲賴丕爻鬲 讴賴 丌賳 乇丕 丕夭 蹖丕丿 亘乇丿賴 丕賲
賴丕蹖賳乇蹖卮 賴丕蹖賳賴 卮丕毓乇蹖 蹖賴賵丿蹖- 丌賱賲丕賳蹖 丿賵 倬蹖卮诏賵蹖蹖 丿丕乇丿 讴賴 氐乇蹖丨 鬲乇 丕夭 倬蹖卮诏賵蹖蹖 賴丕蹖 賳賵爻鬲乇丕丿丕賲賵爻 賵 亘爻蹖丕乇 賵丨卮鬲賳丕讴鬲乇 丕夭 丌賳丕賳 丕爻鬲: 蹖讴蹖 丿乇亘丕乇賴 爻賵夭丕賳丿賳 讴鬲丕亘賴丕 賵 丕賳爻丕賳賴丕 亘丿爻鬲 賮丕卮蹖爻鬲 賴丕蹖 丌賱賲丕賳蹖 賵 丿蹖诏乇蹖 丿乇亘丕乇賴 丌蹖賳丿賴 賴賳乇 賵 讴鬲丕亘賴丕 丿乇 噩賴丕賳蹖 讴賲賵賳蹖爻鬲蹖. 丕賵 蹖讴 賯乇賳 倬蹖卮 丕夭 亘賵賯賵毓 倬蹖賵爻鬲賳 趩賳蹖賳 賵賯丕蹖毓 丿乇丿賳丕讴 賵 禺賵賳蹖賳蹖 丿乇 鬲丕乇蹖禺 亘卮乇蹖鬲貙 丌賳 乇丕 亘丕 丕賳丿蹖卮賴 亘賱賳丿倬乇賵丕夭丕賳賴鈥屰� 禺賵丿 賵 卮賳丕禺鬲蹖 讴賴 丕夭 賲賮丕賴蹖賲 讴賲賵賳蹖爻鬲蹖 賵 禺賵蹖 禺賵丿亘乇鬲乇亘蹖賳蹖 跇乇賲賳 賴丕 丿丕卮鬲貙 倬蹖卮 亘蹖賳蹖 讴乇丿. 丿乇亘丕乇賴 丨丕讴賲蹖鬲 讴賲賵賳蹖爻鬲 賴丕 賲蹖 诏賵蹖丿
丕蹖賳 丕毓鬲乇丕賮 乇丕 讴賴 丌蹖賳丿賴 丕夭 丌賳 讴賲賵賳蹖爻鬲 賴丕 禺賵丕賴丿 亘賵丿 亘丕 亘蹖賲 賮乇丕賵丕賳 賵 賳诏乇丕賳蹖 卮丿蹖丿 丕亘乇丕夭 賲蹖 丿丕乇賲 賵 丕賮爻賵爻!... 亘丕 賵丨卮鬲 賵 賴乇丕爻 丿乇 賮讴乇 夭賲丕賳蹖 賴爻鬲賲 讴賴 丌蹖讴賵賳賵讴賱丕爻鬲鈥屬囏� 亘賴 賯丿乇鬲 亘乇爻賳丿: 丌賳賴丕 亘丕 賲卮鬲 賴丕蹖 夭賲禺鬲卮丕賳 賴賲賴鈥屰� 賳睾賲賴 賴丕蹖 鬲禺蹖賱 亘乇丕賳诏蹖夭 讴賵丿讴丕賳賴 丕蹖 乇丕 讴賴 卮丕毓乇丕賳 丿賵爻鬲丿丕乇 丌賳 亘賵丿賳丿貙 丕夭 賲蹖丕賳 賲蹖 亘乇賳丿貙 噩賳诏賱 鬲賲卮讴賲 乇丕 丕乇賴 賲蹖 讴賳賳丿 賵 噩丕蹖 丌賳 爻蹖亘 夭賲蹖賳蹖 賲蹖 讴丕乇賳丿. 賵 丕賮爻賵爻 讴賴 讴鬲丕亘 "賳睾賲賴 賴丕"蹖賲 乇丕 亘賯丕賱 賴丕蹖 丿賵乇賴 诏乇丿 賵乇賯 賵乇賯 禺賵丕賴賳丿 讴乇丿 賵 亘乇丕蹖 倬蹖乇夭賳丕賳 丌蹖賳丿賴 丿乇 丌賳 賯賴賵賴 蹖丕 丕賳賮蹖賴 禺賵丕賴賳丿 乇蹖禺鬲. 丌賴! 賵賯鬲蹖 亘賴 丕賮賵賱蹖 賮讴乇 賲蹖 讴賳賲 讴賴 亘丕 丌賳 卮毓乇賴丕蹖 賲賳 賵 賴賲賴鈥屰� 賳馗賲 讴賴賳 噩賴丕賳蹖 丕夭 爻賵蹖 讴賲賵賳蹖爻賲 鬲賴丿蹖丿 賲蹖 卮賵丿 賴賲賴 趩蹖夭 乇丕 倬蹖卮丕倬蹖卮 賲蹖 亘蹖賳賲 賵 丕賳丿賵賴蹖 賳丕诏賮鬲賳蹖 亘乇 丿賱賲 趩賳诏 賲蹖 夭賳丿
讴鬲丕亘 鬲賳賴丕蹖蹖 倬乇 賴蹖丕賴賵 卮丕賴丿蹖 丕爻鬲 亘乇 丕蹖賳 倬蹖卮 亘蹖賳蹖貨
丿丕爻鬲丕賳蹖 丿乇 賲賵乇丿 賲乇诏 賽 讴鬲丕亘賴丕 賵 丌孬丕乇 賴賳乇蹖 賳賯丕卮丕賳
...讴賴 丿乇 噩丕賲毓賴 讴賲賵賳蹖爻鬲蹖 賳賯卮 讴丕睾匕 亘丕胤賱賴 乇丕 倬蹖丿丕 讴乇丿賴 丕賳丿
賴丕賳鬲丕 蹖讴蹖 丕夭 讴爻丕賳蹖 丕爻鬲 讴賴 亘丕 倬乇爻 讴乇丿賳 丕蹖賳 亘馗丕賴乇 讴丕睾匕 亘丕胤賱賴 賴丕 夭賳丿诏蹖卮 乇丕 賲蹖 诏匕乇丕賳丿貨 爻蹖 賵 倬賳噩 爻丕賱 丕爻鬲 讴賴 丿乇 讴丕乇 讴丕睾匕 亘丕胤賱賴 賴爻鬲賲 賵 丕蹖賳 芦賯氐賴鈥屰� 毓丕卮賯丕賳賴禄 賲賳 丕爻鬲
賯氐賴 毓丕卮賯丕賳賴 丕賵 丌卮賳丕蹖蹖 亘丕 讴鬲丕亘賴丕 賵 卮丕賴讴丕乇 賴丕蹖 亘夭乇诏 丕丿亘蹖 丕爻鬲 賵 趩蹖夭賴丕蹖蹖 讴賴 丕夭 丕蹖賳 丌孬丕乇 賲蹖 丌賲賵夭丿. 丕賵 亘乇禺蹖 丕夭 丕蹖賳 讴鬲丕亘賴丕 乇丕 亘賴 禺丕賳賴 丕卮 賲蹖 亘乇丿 鬲丕 丕夭 賳丕亘賵丿 卮丿賳 賳噩丕鬲 倬蹖丿丕 讴賳賳丿
丕賲丕 賴賲丕賳胤賵乇 讴賴 賴丕蹖賳賴 賲蹖 诏賵蹖丿: 賵 丕賮爻賵爻 讴賴 讴鬲丕亘 "賳睾賲賴 賴丕"蹖賲 乇丕 亘賯丕賱 賴丕蹖 丿賵乇賴 诏乇丿 賵乇賯 賵乇賯 禺賵丕賴賳丿 讴乇丿 賵 亘乇丕蹖 倬蹖乇夭賳丕賳 丌蹖賳丿賴 丿乇 丌賳 賯賴賵賴 蹖丕 丕賳賮蹖賴 禺賵丕賴賳丿 乇蹖禺鬲
倬蹖卮 亘蹖賳蹖 賴丕蹖賳賴 亘賴 賵賯賵毓 賲蹖 倬蹖賵賳丿丿 賵 毓丕賯亘鬲 丿爻鬲诏丕賴 賴丕蹖 亘夭乇诏鬲乇蹖 爻丕禺鬲賴 賲蹖 卮賵丿 鬲丕 亘丕 爻乇毓鬲 亘蹖卮鬲乇蹖 讴鬲丕亘賴丕 丕夭 亘蹖賳 亘乇賵賳丿. 賵 讴丕乇诏乇丕賳 爻賵爻蹖丕賱蹖爻鬲蹖 讴賴 噩丕蹖 賴丕賳鬲丕 乇丕 賲蹖 诏蹖乇賳丿 賵 丌禺乇蹖賳 讴爻丕賳蹖 賴爻鬲賳丿 讴賴 丕蹖賳 讴鬲丕亘賴丕 乇丕 賲蹖 亘蹖賳賳丿貙 賮賯胤 亘賴 賮讴乇 爻乇蹖毓 讴丕乇 讴乇丿賳 賵 禺賲蹖乇 讴乇丿賳 讴鬲丕亘賴丕 賴爻鬲賳丿貨 亘賴 丌賳趩賴 賮讴乇 賳賲蹖 讴賳賳丿 賳诏丕賴 讴乇丿賳 賵 禺賵丕賳丿賳 賵 睾乇賯 卮丿賳 丿乇 讴鬲丕亘賴丕爻鬲
丿乇 丕蹖賳 噩丕賲毓賴 讴爻蹖 亘賴 賮讴乇 賱匕鬲 賴丕蹖 倬蹖趩蹖丿賴 賵 毓賲蹖賯 丕賳丿蹖卮蹖丿賳 賳蹖爻鬲 賵 丿乇 丌賵乇丿賳 賳丕賳 賵 賱匕鬲 賴丕蹖 夭賵丿诏匕乇 賵 爻胤丨蹖 賲賴賲鬲乇 丕夭 賴乇 趩蹖夭蹖 丕爻鬲
賴賲賴 丕蹖賳 趩蹖夭賴丕貙 賴丕賳鬲丕 亘賴 丕蹖賳 賳鬲蹖噩賴 鬲賱禺 賲蹖 乇爻丕賳丿 讴賴 丕賳爻丕賳 丕賳丿蹖卮賲賳丿 丿乇 丕蹖賳 噩丕賲毓賴 噩丕蹖蹖 賳丿丕乇丿
賵 丿乇 賲蹖 蹖丕亘丿 丿乇 丕蹖賳 爻乇夭賲蹖賳 蹖讴 亘蹖 賯丕亘賱蹖鬲 丕爻鬲 賴賲趩賵賳 賴賲賴 讴鬲丕亘賴丕蹖蹖 讴賴 丕夭 亘蹖賳 賲蹖 乇賵賳丿
丕賵 丌賳賯丿乇 賲蹖 賳賵卮丿 鬲丕 丿蹖诏乇 卮讴蹖 丿乇 鬲氐賲蹖賲卮 賳丿丕卮鬲賴 亘丕卮丿
...鬲丕 讴丕賲賱丕 丕夭 倬丕 丿乇 賳蹖丕賲丿賴 丕蹖賲 噩賵賴乇 賵丕賯毓蹖 禺賵丿 乇丕 亘乇賵夭 賳賲蹖 丿賴蹖賲
亘賴 噩丕蹖 亘爻鬲賴 亘賳丿蹖 讴丕睾匕賴丕蹖 爻賮蹖丿 丿乇 趩丕倬禺丕賳賴 賲賱丕賳鬲乇蹖禺 丿賳亘丕賱 乇丕賴 爻賯乇丕胤 賵 爻賴 賳賴 讴丕 禺賵丕賴賲 乇賮鬲貙 賵 丕蹖賳噩丕貙 丿乇 丕蹖賳 爻乇丿丕亘賴 賵 丿乇 丕蹖賳 倬乇爻貙 禺賵丿貙 爻賯賵胤 禺賵蹖卮 乇丕 亘乇禺賵丕賴賲 诏夭蹖丿貙 爻賯賵胤蹖 讴賴 毓乇賵噩 丕爻鬲
賯爻賲鬲 賴丕蹖蹖 丕夭 讴鬲丕亘
禺賵丿 乇丕 趩賳丕賳 亘丕 讴賱賲丕鬲 毓噩蹖賳 讴乇丿賴 丕賲 讴賴 丿蹖诏乇 亘賴 賴蹖卅鬲 丿丕賳卮賳丕賲賴 賴丕蹖蹖 丿乇 丌賲丿賴 丕賲 讴賴 胤蹖 丕蹖賳 爻丕賱賴丕 爻賴 鬲購賳蹖 丕夭 丌賳賴丕 禺賲蹖乇 讴乇丿賴 丕賲. 爻亘賵蹖蹖 賴爻鬲賲 倬乇 丕夭 丌亘 夭賳丿诏丕賳蹖 賵 賲乇丿诏丕賳蹖貙 讴賴 讴丕賮蹖 丕爻鬲 讴賲蹖 亘賴 蹖讴 爻賵 禺賲 卮賵賲 鬲丕 丕夭 賲賳 爻蹖賱 丕賮讴丕乇 夭蹖亘丕 噩丕乇蹖 卮賵丿. 丌賲賵夭卮賲 趩賳丕賳 賳丕禺賵丿丌诏丕賴 氐賵乇鬲 诏乇賮鬲賴 讴賴 賳賲蹖 丿丕賳賲 讴丿丕賲 賮讴乇蹖 丕夭 禺賵丿賲 丕爻鬲 賵 賵 讴丿丕賲 丕夭 讴鬲丕亘賴丕蹖賲 賳丕卮蹖 卮丿賴. 賵賯鬲蹖 趩蹖夭蹖 乇丕 賲蹖 禺賵丕賳賲貙 丿乇 賵丕賯毓 賳賲蹖 禺賵丕賳賲. 噩賲賱賴 丕蹖 夭蹖亘丕 乇丕 亘賴 丿賴丕賳 賲蹖 丕賳丿丕夭賲 賵 賲孬賱 丌亘 賳亘丕鬲 賲蹖鈥屬呞┵呚� 蹖丕 賲孬賱 賱蹖讴賵乇蹖 賲蹖鈥屬嗁堌促呚� 鬲丕 丌賳讴賴 丕賳丿蹖卮賴貙 賲孬賱 丕賱讴賱貙 丿乇 賵噩賵丿 賲賳 丨賱 卮賵丿貙 鬲丕 丿乇 丿賱賲 賳賮賵匕 讴賳丿 賵 丿乇 乇诏賴丕蹖賲 噩丕乇蹖 卮賵丿 賵 亘賴 乇蹖卮賴 賴乇 诏賱亘賵賱 禺賵賳蹖 亘乇爻丿
賵賯鬲蹖 趩卮賲丕賳賲 亘賴 讴鬲丕亘 丿乇爻鬲 賵 丨爻丕亘蹖 賲蹖 丕賮鬲丿 賵 讴賱賲丕鬲 趩丕倬 卮丿賴 乇丕 讴賳丕乇 賲蹖 夭賳賲貙 丕夭 賲鬲賳 趩蹖夭蹖 噩夭 丕賳丿蹖卮賴 賴丕蹖 賲噩乇丿 亘丕賯蹖 賳賲蹖 賲丕賳丿. 丕賳丿蹖卮賴 賴丕蹖蹖 讴賴 丿乇 賴賵丕 噩乇蹖丕賳 賵 爻蹖賱丕賳 丿丕乇賳丿貙 丕夭 賴賵丕 夭賳丿賴 丕賳丿 賵 亘賴 賴賵丕 亘乇 賲蹖 诏乇丿賳丿貙 趩賵賳 讴賴 丌禺乇 賵 毓丕賯亘鬲 賴乇 趩蹖夭蹖 賴賵丕爻鬲貙 賴賲 馗乇賮 賵 賴賲 賲馗乇賵賮. 賳丕賳 丿乇 賲乇丕爻賲 毓卮丕亍 乇亘丕賳蹖 丕夭 賴賵丕爻鬲 賵 賳賴 丕夭 禺賵賳 賲爻蹖丨
爻蹖 賵 倬賳噩 爻丕賱 丕爻鬲 讴賴 丿丕乇賲 亘蹖 賵賯賮賴 丌亘噩賵 賲蹖 禺賵乇賲. 賳賴 丕賳讴賴 丕夭 丕蹖賳 讴丕乇 禺賵卮賲 亘蹖丕丿. 丕夭 賲蹖禺賵丕乇賴 賴丕 亘蹖夭丕乇賲. 賲蹖 賳賵卮賲 鬲丕 亘賴鬲乇 賮讴乇 讴賳賲貙 鬲丕 亘賴 賯賱亘 丌賳趩賴 賲蹖 禺賵丕賳賲 亘賴鬲乇 乇丕賴 亘蹖丕亘賲貙 趩賵賳讴賴 賲賳 賵賯鬲蹖 趩蹖夭蹖 賲蹖 禺賵丕賳賲 亘乇丕蹖 鬲賮賳賳 賵 賵賯鬲 讴卮蹖 蹖丕 亘賴鬲乇 禺賵丕亘蹖丿賳 賳蹖爻鬲貙 賲蹖 賳賵卮賲 鬲丕 丌賳趩賴 賲蹖 禺賵丕賳賲 禺賵丕亘 乇丕 丕夭 趩卮賲 賲賳 亘诏蹖乇丿貙 讴賴 賲乇丕 亘賴 乇毓卮賴 亘蹖賳丿丕夭丿貙 趩賵賳讴賴 亘丕 賴诏賱 丿乇 丕蹖賳 毓賯蹖丿賴 賴賲乇丕賴賲 讴賴 丕賳爻丕賳 卮乇蹖賮 賴乇诏夭 亘賴 丕賳丿丕夭賴 讴丕賮蹖 卮乇蹖賮 賳蹖爻鬲 賵 賴蹖趩 鬲亘賴讴丕乇蹖 賴賲 鬲賲丕賲 賵 讴賲丕賱 鬲亘賴讴丕乇 賳蹖爻鬲. 丕诏乇 賲蹖 鬲賵丕賳爻鬲賲 亘賳賵蹖爻賲 讴鬲丕亘蹖 賲蹖 賳賵卮鬲賲 丿乇亘丕乇賴 賱匕丕鬲 賵 亘夭乇诏鬲乇蹖賳 丕賳丿賵賴丕蹖 亘卮乇蹖. 丕夭 讴鬲丕亘 賵 亘賴 賲丿丿 讴鬲丕亘 丕爻鬲 讴賴 丌賲賵禺鬲賴 丕賲 讴賴 丌爻賲丕賳 亘讴賱蹖 丕夭 毓丕胤賮賴 亘蹖 亘賴乇賴 丕爻鬲
:賴丕賳鬲丕 賵 丿禺鬲乇讴 讴賵賱蹖
丿乇 蹖讴 賱丨馗賴貙 丌乇鬲賵乇 卮賵倬賳賴丕賵乇 亘賴 賳馗乇賲 乇爻蹖丿 讴賴 诏賮鬲: 亘丕賱丕鬲乇蹖賳 賴賲賴 賯賵丕賳蹖賳 毓卮賯 丕爻鬲貙 賵 毓卮賯 卮賮賯鬲 丕爻鬲
賲丕 丕賳诏丕乇 丿乇 鬲丕乇蹖讴-乇賵卮賳 亘賴 賴賲 亘蹖卮鬲乇 賳诏丕賴 賲蹖 讴乇丿蹖賲 鬲丕 丿乇 乇賵卮賳丕蹖蹖 乇賵夭貙 賵 賲賳 賴賲蹖卮賴 鬲丕乇蹖讴-乇賵卮賳 乇丕 丿賵爻鬲 丿丕卮鬲賲... 丿乇 鬲丕乇蹖讴-乇賵卮賳 賴賲賴 趩蹖夭 夭蹖亘丕鬲乇 噩賱賵賴 賲蹖 讴賳丿貙 賴賲賴鈥屰� 禺蹖丕亘丕賳賴丕 賵 賲蹖丿丕賳賴丕 賵 賲乇丿賲丕賳蹖 讴賴 丿乇 丌賳賴丕 诏匕乇 賳蹖 讴乇丿賳丿貙 賵 丨鬲蹖 禺賵丿賲 賴賲 丕蹖賳 丨爻 乇丕 丿丕卮鬲賲 讴賴 夭蹖亘丕鬲乇賲貙 噩賵丕賳 賵 夭蹖亘丕... 丿乇 鬲丕乇蹖讴-乇賵卮賳 賱丨馗賴 賴丕蹖蹖 丿乇 夭賳丿诏蹖 乇賵夭賲乇賴 賮乇丕 賲蹖 乇爻丿 讴賴 亘賴 丌賳 夭蹖亘丕 賲蹖 诏賵蹖賳丿. 丿乇 賳賵乇蹖 讴賴 丕夭 丌鬲卮 亘禺丕乇蹖 賲蹖 鬲丕亘蹖丿 丿禺鬲乇讴 讴賵賱蹖 丕夭 噩丕 亘乇 賲蹖 禺丕爻鬲 賵 乇丕賴 讴賴 賲蹖 乇賮鬲 賲蹖 丿蹖丿賲 讴賴 丿賵乇 倬蹖讴乇卮 讴賴 胤乇丨蹖 丕夭 胤賱丕 丿丕卮鬲 賴丕賱賴 丕蹖 倬蹖趩蹖丿賴 丕爻鬲... 丿禺鬲乇讴 亘毓丿 丕夭 丌賳讴賴 趩賳丿 鬲讴賴 趩賵亘 丿蹖诏乇 丿乇 丌鬲卮 賲蹖 丕賳丿丕禺鬲 賲蹖 丌賲丿 賵 讴賳丕乇 賲賳 丿乇丕夭 賲蹖 讴卮蹖丿 賵 乇賵 亘賴 賲賳 亘乇 賲蹖 诏乇丿丕賳丿 賵 亘賴 賳蹖賲乇禺賲 趩卮賲 賲蹖 丿賵禺鬲 賵 亘丕 賳賵讴 丕賳诏卮鬲 胤乇丨 亘蹖賳蹖 賵 丿賴丕賳賲 乇丕 丿賳亘丕賱 賲蹖 讴乇丿. 賴蹖趩賵賯鬲 賴賲丿蹖诏乇 丕乇 賳蹖賲 亘賵爻蹖丿蹖賲. 賴賲賴 趩蹖夭 乇丕 亘丕 丿爻鬲賴丕蹖賲丕賳 亘賴賲 賲蹖 诏賮鬲蹖賲貙 亘毓丿 賴賲丕賳胤賵乇 丿乇丕夭 讴卮蹖丿賴 丿乇 亘爻鬲乇貙 亘賴 夭亘丕賳賴 賴丕 賵 丕賳毓讴丕爻 丌鬲卮 丿乇 亘禺丕乇蹖 讴賴賳賴貙 賳诏丕賴 賲蹖 讴乇丿蹖賲 賵 亘賴 丨賱賯賴 賴丕蹖丕 賳賵乇 讴賴 丕夭 噩丕賳 丿丕丿賳 趩賵亘賴丕 亘乇 賲蹖 禺丕爻鬲. 賴蹖趩 趩蹖夭蹖 賳賲蹖 禺賵丕爻鬲蹖賲 噩夭 丕蹖賳讴賴 鬲丕 丕亘丿 亘賴 賴賲蹖賳 氐賵乇鬲 亘賴 夭賳丿诏蹖 丕丿丕賲賴 亘丿賴蹖賲貙 丕賳诏丕乇 讴賴 賯亘賱丕 賴賲賴 趩蹖夭 亘賴 賴賲 诏賮鬲賴 亘丕卮蹖賲. 丕賳诏丕乇 讴賴 鬲賵丕賲丕賳 亘賴 丿賳蹖丕 丌賲丿賴 丕蹖賲 賵 賴乇诏夭 丕夭 賴賲 噩丿丕 賳卮丿賴 丕蹖賲
蹖讴 卮亘 爻乇卮亘 讴賴 亘賴 禺丕賳賴 亘乇诏卮鬲賲 丿蹖丿賲 讴賴 丿禺鬲乇讴 讴賵賱蹖 丿乇 禺丕賳賴 賳蹖爻鬲. 趩乇丕睾 乇賵卮賳 讴乇丿賲 賵 乇賮鬲賲 亘蹖乇賵賳 賵 鬲丕 氐亘丨 胤賵賱 禺蹖丕亘丕賳 噩賱賵蹖 禺丕賳賴 乇丕 亘丕賱丕 賵 倬丕蹖蹖賳 乇賮鬲賲貙 賵賱蹖 丕孬乇蹖 丕夭 丕賵 倬蹖丿丕 賳卮丿貙 賳賴 丕賳 乇賵夭 賵 賳賴 乇賵夭 亘毓丿卮 賵 賳賴 丿蹖诏乇 賴蹖趩 賵賯鬲... 亘毓丿賴丕 賮賴賲蹖丿賲 讴賴 诏卮鬲丕倬賵 丿乇 诏卮鬲賴丕蹖 禺蹖丕亘丕賳蹖鈥屫ж� 丕賵 乇丕 丿爻鬲诏蹖乇 讴乇丿賴 賵 亘丕 蹖讴 毓丿賴 讴賵賱蹖 丿蹖诏乇 亘賴 亘丕夭丿丕卮鬲诏丕賴 賮乇爻鬲丕丿賴 賵 丕蹖賳 丿禺鬲乇 乇丕 蹖丕 丿乇亘丕夭丿丕卮鬲诏丕賴 賲丕蹖丿丕賳讴 蹖丕 丿乇 丌卮賵蹖鬲爻 丿乇 讴賵乇賴 賴丕蹖 丌丿賲 爻賵夭蹖 爻賵夭丕賳丿賴 蹖丕 丿乇 丕鬲丕賯 诏丕夭 禺賮賴 讴乇丿賴 亘賵丿賳丿. 丿禺鬲乇 丿蹖诏乇 亘乇賳诏卮鬲. 丌爻賲丕賳 毓丕胤賮賴 賳丿丕乇丿
丕賵 丕夭 夭賳丿诏蹖 趩蹖夭蹖 噩夭 丕蹖賳 賳賲蹖 禺賵丕爻鬲 讴賴 賴蹖夭賲 丿乇 亘禺丕乇蹖 亘乇蹖夭丿貙 讴賴 诏賵卮賴 丕蹖 丕夭 賳丕賳卮 乇丕 賲孬賱 鬲讴賴 賳丕賳蹖 丿乇 賲乇丕爻賲 毓卮丕 乇亘丕賳蹖 亘卮讴賳丿 賵 亘賴 丌鬲卮 丿乇賵賳 亘禺丕乇蹖 賳诏丕賴 讴賳丿貙 賲噩匕賵亘 賵 賲亘賴賵鬲 丨乇丕乇鬲 賵 夭賲夭賲賴 蹖 丕賴賳诏蹖賳 丌鬲卮蹖 讴賴 丕夭 讴賵丿讴蹖 賲蹖 卮賳丕禺鬲 賵 亘丕 賯賵賲 丕賵 倬蹖賵賳丿蹖 丿蹖乇蹖賳 賵 賲賯丿爻 丿丕卮鬲. 丌鬲卮蹖 讴賴 丿乇 丨乇丕乇鬲 賵 乇賵卮賳丕蹖蹖 丕卮貙 乇賳噩賴丕 乇丕 賮乇丕賲賵卮 賲蹖 讴乇丿 賵 賱亘禺賳丿蹖 丕賳丿賵賴诏蹖賳 亘賴 賱亘丕賳 丕賵 賲蹖 丌賵乇丿. 丕賳毓讴丕爻 禺賵卮亘禺鬲蹖 丿乇 丕賵噩
賳賴貙 丌爻賲丕賳 毓丕胤賮賴 賳丿丕乇丿貙 賵賱蹖 丕丨鬲賲丕賱丕 趩蹖夭蹖 亘丕賱丕鬲乇 丕夭 丌爻賲丕賳 賵噩賵丿 丿丕乇丿 讴賴 毓卮賯 賵 卮賮賯鬲 丕爻鬲貙 趩蹖夭蹖 讴賴 賲賳 賲丿鬲賴丕爻鬲 讴賴 丌賳 乇丕 丕夭 蹖丕丿 亘乇丿賴 丕賲
August 9, 2021
P艡铆li拧 Hlu膷n谩 Samota = Prilis Hlucna Samta = Too Loud a Solitude, Bohumil Hrabal
Too Loud a Solitude is a short novel by Czech writer Bohumil Hrabal. Self-published in 1976 and officially in 1989.
The entire story is narrated in the first person by the main character Hanta.
Hanta is portrayed as a sort of recluse and hermit, albeit one with encyclopedic literary knowledge. Hanta uses metaphorical language and surreal descriptions, and much of the book is concerned with just his inner thoughts, as he recalls and meditates on the outlandish amounts of knowledge he has attained over the years.
He brings up stories from his past and imagines the events of whimsical scenarios. He contemplates the messages of the vast numbers of intellectuals which he has studied. The novel is vibrant with symbolism. A simple but obscure plot is present, however.
鬲丕乇蹖禺 賳禺爻鬲蹖賳 禺賵丕賳卮: 乇賵夭 賴噩丿賴賲 賲丕賴 丌诏賵爻鬲 爻丕賱 2004賲蹖賱丕丿蹖
毓賳賵丕賳: 鬲賳賴丕蹖蹖 倬乇賴蹖丕賴賵貨 丕孬乇: 亘賴賵賲蹖賱 賴乇丕亘丕賱貨 賲鬲乇噩賲: 倬乇賵蹖夭 丿賵丕卅蹖貙 鬲賴乇丕賳貙 讴鬲丕亘 乇賵卮賳貙 1383貙 丿乇 亘蹖爻鬲 賵 丿賵貙 105氐貙 卮丕亘讴 9645709520貨 賲賵囟賵毓: 丿丕爻鬲丕賳賴丕蹖 賳賵蹖爻賳丿诏丕賳 趩讴 - 20賲
賲鬲乇噩賲: 丕丨爻丕賳 賱丕賲毓貙 賲卮賴丿貙 亘賵鬲蹖賲丕乇貙 1392貙 丿乇 102氐貨 丕賳丿丕夭賴 5/14丿乇5/21爻.賲貙 卮丕亘讴 9786006938134貨
賲鬲乇噩賲: 丕賲蹖乇 毓賱蹖噩丕賳 倬賵乇貙 鬲賴乇丕賳貙 丌賵丕蹖 賲讴鬲賵亘貙 1393貙 丿乇 120氐貨 卮丕亘讴 9786007364079貨
丿丕爻鬲丕賳 亘丕 丕蹖賳 噩賲賱丕鬲 丌睾丕夭 賲蹖鈥屫促堌�: (爻蹖 賵 倬賳噩 爻丕賱 丕爻鬲 讴賴 丿乇 讴丕乇 讴丕睾匕 亘丕胤賱賴 賴爻鬲賲貙 賵 丕蹖賳 芦賯氐賴 蹖 毓丕卮賯丕賳賴 蹖禄 賲賳 丕爻鬲貨 爻蹖 賵 倬賳噩 爻丕賱 丕爻鬲 讴賴 丿丕乇賲 讴鬲丕亘 賵 讴丕睾匕 亘丕胤賱賴 禺賲蹖乇 賲蹖鈥屭┵嗁呚� 賵 禺賵丿 乇丕 趩賳丕賳 亘丕 讴賱賲丕鬲 毓噩蹖賳 讴乇丿賴鈥� 丕賲貙 讴賴 丿蹖诏乇 亘賴 賴蹖卅鬲 丿丕賳卮賳丕賲賴 賴丕蹖蹖 丿乇丌賲丿賴 丕賲貙 讴賴 胤蹖 丕蹖賳 爻丕賱賴丕 爻賴 鬲購賳蹖 丕夭 丌賳賴丕 乇丕 禺賲蹖乇 讴乇丿賴 丕賲貨 爻亘賵蹖蹖 賴爻鬲賲 倬乇 丕夭 丌亘 夭賳丿诏丕賳蹖 賵 賲乇丿诏丕賳蹖貙 讴賴 讴丕賮蹖 丕爻鬲 讴賲蹖 亘賴 蹖讴爻賵 禺賲 卮賵賲貙 鬲丕 丕夭 賲賳貙 爻蹖賱 丕賮讴丕乇 夭蹖亘丕 噩丕乇蹖 卮賵丿貨 丌賲賵夭卮賲 趩賳丕賳 賳丕禺賵丿丌诏丕賴 氐賵乇鬲 诏乇賮鬲賴貙 讴賴 賳賲蹖鈥屫з嗁� 讴丿丕賲 賮讴乇 丕夭 禺賵丿賲 丕爻鬲貙 賵 讴丿丕賲 丕夭 讴鬲丕亘賴丕蹖賲 賳丕卮蹖 卮丿賴貨 丕賲丕 賮賯胤 亘賴 丕蹖賳 氐賵乇鬲 丕爻鬲貙 讴賴 鬲賵丕賳爻鬲賴 丕賲 賴賲丕賴賳诏蹖 丕賲 乇丕貙 亘丕 禺賵丿賲貙 賵 噩賴丕賳 丕胤乇丕賮賲貙 丿乇 丕蹖賳 爻蹖 賵 倬賳噩 爻丕賱 诏匕卮鬲賴貙 丨賮馗 讴賳賲 )禄貨 倬丕蹖丕賳 賳賯賱
鬲賳賴丕蹖蹖 倬乇 賴蹖丕賴賵貨 丿丕爻鬲丕賳蹖 乇賵丕賳讴丕賵丕賳賴 賵 賮賱爻賮蹖 丕爻鬲貙 讴賴 丕夭 卮禺氐蹖鬲 芦賴丕賳鬲丕禄 賵 丕賮讴丕乇卮 爻禺賳 賲蹖鈥屭堐屫� 丕賲丕 丿乇 丕蹖賳 亘蹖賳 诏丕賴蹖 亘賴 賲賵丕乇丿 爻蹖丕爻蹖 丕噩鬲賲丕毓蹖 賳蹖夭 丕卮丕乇賴 賲蹖鈥屭┵嗀� 芦賴丕賳鬲丕禄 丿乇 夭蹖乇夭賲蹖賳蹖 賲乇胤賵亘貙 讴賴 丕賳亘丕乇 讴丕睾匕 亘丕胤賱賴 丕爻鬲貙 乇賵夭诏丕乇 賲蹖鈥屭柏必з嗀� 賵 讴鬲丕亘賴丕蹖蹖 乇丕 讴賴 丕夭 爻賵蹖 丕丿丕乇賴 蹖 爻丕賳爻賵乇 亘賴 丌賳鈥屫� 賲蹖鈥屫①堌辟嗀� 乇丕貙 禺賲蹖乇 賲蹖鈥屭┵嗀� 丌賯丕蹖 芦賴丕賳鬲丕禄 亘丕 禺賵丕賳丿賳 丌賳 讴鬲丕亘鈥屬囏ж� 丿賳蹖丕 乇丕 亘賴 诏賵賳賴鈥� 丕蹖 丿蹖诏乇 賲蹖锟斤拷锟截ㄛ屬嗀�
鬲丕乇蹖禺 亘賴賳诏丕賲 乇爻丕賳蹖 10/06/1399賴噩乇蹖 禺賵乇卮蹖丿蹖貨 17/05/1400賴噩乇蹖 禺賵乇卮蹖丿蹖貨 丕. 卮乇亘蹖丕賳蹖
Too Loud a Solitude is a short novel by Czech writer Bohumil Hrabal. Self-published in 1976 and officially in 1989.
The entire story is narrated in the first person by the main character Hanta.
Hanta is portrayed as a sort of recluse and hermit, albeit one with encyclopedic literary knowledge. Hanta uses metaphorical language and surreal descriptions, and much of the book is concerned with just his inner thoughts, as he recalls and meditates on the outlandish amounts of knowledge he has attained over the years.
He brings up stories from his past and imagines the events of whimsical scenarios. He contemplates the messages of the vast numbers of intellectuals which he has studied. The novel is vibrant with symbolism. A simple but obscure plot is present, however.
鬲丕乇蹖禺 賳禺爻鬲蹖賳 禺賵丕賳卮: 乇賵夭 賴噩丿賴賲 賲丕賴 丌诏賵爻鬲 爻丕賱 2004賲蹖賱丕丿蹖
毓賳賵丕賳: 鬲賳賴丕蹖蹖 倬乇賴蹖丕賴賵貨 丕孬乇: 亘賴賵賲蹖賱 賴乇丕亘丕賱貨 賲鬲乇噩賲: 倬乇賵蹖夭 丿賵丕卅蹖貙 鬲賴乇丕賳貙 讴鬲丕亘 乇賵卮賳貙 1383貙 丿乇 亘蹖爻鬲 賵 丿賵貙 105氐貙 卮丕亘讴 9645709520貨 賲賵囟賵毓: 丿丕爻鬲丕賳賴丕蹖 賳賵蹖爻賳丿诏丕賳 趩讴 - 20賲
賲鬲乇噩賲: 丕丨爻丕賳 賱丕賲毓貙 賲卮賴丿貙 亘賵鬲蹖賲丕乇貙 1392貙 丿乇 102氐貨 丕賳丿丕夭賴 5/14丿乇5/21爻.賲貙 卮丕亘讴 9786006938134貨
賲鬲乇噩賲: 丕賲蹖乇 毓賱蹖噩丕賳 倬賵乇貙 鬲賴乇丕賳貙 丌賵丕蹖 賲讴鬲賵亘貙 1393貙 丿乇 120氐貨 卮丕亘讴 9786007364079貨
丿丕爻鬲丕賳 亘丕 丕蹖賳 噩賲賱丕鬲 丌睾丕夭 賲蹖鈥屫促堌�: (爻蹖 賵 倬賳噩 爻丕賱 丕爻鬲 讴賴 丿乇 讴丕乇 讴丕睾匕 亘丕胤賱賴 賴爻鬲賲貙 賵 丕蹖賳 芦賯氐賴 蹖 毓丕卮賯丕賳賴 蹖禄 賲賳 丕爻鬲貨 爻蹖 賵 倬賳噩 爻丕賱 丕爻鬲 讴賴 丿丕乇賲 讴鬲丕亘 賵 讴丕睾匕 亘丕胤賱賴 禺賲蹖乇 賲蹖鈥屭┵嗁呚� 賵 禺賵丿 乇丕 趩賳丕賳 亘丕 讴賱賲丕鬲 毓噩蹖賳 讴乇丿賴鈥� 丕賲貙 讴賴 丿蹖诏乇 亘賴 賴蹖卅鬲 丿丕賳卮賳丕賲賴 賴丕蹖蹖 丿乇丌賲丿賴 丕賲貙 讴賴 胤蹖 丕蹖賳 爻丕賱賴丕 爻賴 鬲購賳蹖 丕夭 丌賳賴丕 乇丕 禺賲蹖乇 讴乇丿賴 丕賲貨 爻亘賵蹖蹖 賴爻鬲賲 倬乇 丕夭 丌亘 夭賳丿诏丕賳蹖 賵 賲乇丿诏丕賳蹖貙 讴賴 讴丕賮蹖 丕爻鬲 讴賲蹖 亘賴 蹖讴爻賵 禺賲 卮賵賲貙 鬲丕 丕夭 賲賳貙 爻蹖賱 丕賮讴丕乇 夭蹖亘丕 噩丕乇蹖 卮賵丿貨 丌賲賵夭卮賲 趩賳丕賳 賳丕禺賵丿丌诏丕賴 氐賵乇鬲 诏乇賮鬲賴貙 讴賴 賳賲蹖鈥屫з嗁� 讴丿丕賲 賮讴乇 丕夭 禺賵丿賲 丕爻鬲貙 賵 讴丿丕賲 丕夭 讴鬲丕亘賴丕蹖賲 賳丕卮蹖 卮丿賴貨 丕賲丕 賮賯胤 亘賴 丕蹖賳 氐賵乇鬲 丕爻鬲貙 讴賴 鬲賵丕賳爻鬲賴 丕賲 賴賲丕賴賳诏蹖 丕賲 乇丕貙 亘丕 禺賵丿賲貙 賵 噩賴丕賳 丕胤乇丕賮賲貙 丿乇 丕蹖賳 爻蹖 賵 倬賳噩 爻丕賱 诏匕卮鬲賴貙 丨賮馗 讴賳賲 )禄貨 倬丕蹖丕賳 賳賯賱
鬲賳賴丕蹖蹖 倬乇 賴蹖丕賴賵貨 丿丕爻鬲丕賳蹖 乇賵丕賳讴丕賵丕賳賴 賵 賮賱爻賮蹖 丕爻鬲貙 讴賴 丕夭 卮禺氐蹖鬲 芦賴丕賳鬲丕禄 賵 丕賮讴丕乇卮 爻禺賳 賲蹖鈥屭堐屫� 丕賲丕 丿乇 丕蹖賳 亘蹖賳 诏丕賴蹖 亘賴 賲賵丕乇丿 爻蹖丕爻蹖 丕噩鬲賲丕毓蹖 賳蹖夭 丕卮丕乇賴 賲蹖鈥屭┵嗀� 芦賴丕賳鬲丕禄 丿乇 夭蹖乇夭賲蹖賳蹖 賲乇胤賵亘貙 讴賴 丕賳亘丕乇 讴丕睾匕 亘丕胤賱賴 丕爻鬲貙 乇賵夭诏丕乇 賲蹖鈥屭柏必з嗀� 賵 讴鬲丕亘賴丕蹖蹖 乇丕 讴賴 丕夭 爻賵蹖 丕丿丕乇賴 蹖 爻丕賳爻賵乇 亘賴 丌賳鈥屫� 賲蹖鈥屫①堌辟嗀� 乇丕貙 禺賲蹖乇 賲蹖鈥屭┵嗀� 丌賯丕蹖 芦賴丕賳鬲丕禄 亘丕 禺賵丕賳丿賳 丌賳 讴鬲丕亘鈥屬囏ж� 丿賳蹖丕 乇丕 亘賴 诏賵賳賴鈥� 丕蹖 丿蹖诏乇 賲蹖锟斤拷锟截ㄛ屬嗀�
鬲丕乇蹖禺 亘賴賳诏丕賲 乇爻丕賳蹖 10/06/1399賴噩乇蹖 禺賵乇卮蹖丿蹖貨 17/05/1400賴噩乇蹖 禺賵乇卮蹖丿蹖貨 丕. 卮乇亘蹖丕賳蹖
December 4, 2013
I had been meaning to read Hrabal's classic novella for quite a while, but last night I finally picked it up. Instantly, I was transported to the world of Hant谩 in a crumbling Communist Prague. Hrabal combines lyrical descriptions of the pleasures - and the necessity - of reading, with surreal passages revealing Hant谩's tangible interactions with the figures in his books, in a world where reading and intellectual and creative engagement are no longer valued. It is a stunningly written, very original work in which Hrabal transcends a mere indictment of one regime, by tapping into the universal and transcendent joys of books and art, and the dangers of dehumanization that we face when we lose sight of those integral aspects of human life.
Hant谩 works by day compacting confiscated books and papers for recycling. He toils in a basement with an ancient compacting machine, and only mice and the occasional flies (and a gypsy or two) for company. He does not keep up with the efficient pace that his boss, and his society, demand - instead, Hant谩 lets the papers pile up to the ceiling as he searches the deliveries for rare books to rescue or, in some cases, to send off to a ceremonial end in the middle of a bale, opened to a much loved passage, and decorated by art prints that were also designated for destruction.
Hant谩 literally is surrounded by the ghosts of writers past. His small apartment is filled to the rafters with tons of books that he has rescued from pulping, to the point that the shelves he has built over his bed and in his bathroom present the constant risk of burying him:
"The way I look at it, my life fits together beautifully: at work I have books -- and bottles and inkwells and staplers -- raining down on me through the opening in the cellar ceiling, and at home I have books above me constantly threatening to fall and kill or at least maim me. The swords of Damocles that I've hung from my bathroom and bedroom ceilings force me to make as many trips for beer at home as at work...." (26)
As he works in his isolated basement, Hant谩 is visited by Jesus and Lao Tse Tung, who present him with radically different models for spiritual engagement on earth. As he walks through Prague, he is surrounded by the architectural ghosts of the classical world. His avocation rescuing and reading books has provided him with a unique education:
"I am a jug filled with water both magic and plain; I have only to lean over and a stream of beautiful thoughts flows out of me. My education has been so unwitting I can't quite tell which of my thoughts come from me and which from my books, but that's how I've stayed attuned to myself and the world around me for the past thirty-five years. Because when I read, I don't really read; I pop a beautiful sentence into my mouth and suck it like a fruit drop, or I sip it like a liqueur until the thought dissolves in me like alcohol, infusing brain and heart and coursing on through the veins to the root of each blood vessel.鈥� (6)
His reading also provides Hant谩 with a means to escape the dismal reality of his life:
"And I huddle in the lee of my paper mountain like Adam in the bushes and pick up a book, and my eyes open panic-stricken on a world other than my own, because when I start reading I'm somewhere completely different, I'm in the text, it's amazing, I have to admit I've been dreaming, dreaming in a land of great beauty, I've been in the very heart of truth." (14)
Throughout the novella, Hrabal seamlessly moves back and forth between Hrabal's reveries about philosophy and books, his memories of past relationships, and his observations of the society that is literally rotting under his feet. There are long, gorgeously written passages that I am tempted to quote at length, alternating with some very disturbing images of the decay and death surrounding Hant谩. In the end, Hant谩's basement sanctuary cannot hide him from the forces for progress that surround him.
Hrabal is known for developing central characters who seem simple, innocent, but who are more in touch with the spiritualism of life than the supposedly well adjusted, but bland, people surrounding them. Hant谩 comes across as a prophet, but one whom no one notices or hears. He sees the dangers of sterile efficiency as the primary goal for a society. Through him, Hrabal leaves us with the question of the value of a life stripped of intellectual and spiritual engagement, one with all rough corners smoothed away to a bland predictability and surface gloss. The book holds tremendous power and relevance for us, even reading across the span of time and space.
Note that the images on the review are taken from different film adaptations of the novella. See for example and .
Hant谩 works by day compacting confiscated books and papers for recycling. He toils in a basement with an ancient compacting machine, and only mice and the occasional flies (and a gypsy or two) for company. He does not keep up with the efficient pace that his boss, and his society, demand - instead, Hant谩 lets the papers pile up to the ceiling as he searches the deliveries for rare books to rescue or, in some cases, to send off to a ceremonial end in the middle of a bale, opened to a much loved passage, and decorated by art prints that were also designated for destruction.
Hant谩 literally is surrounded by the ghosts of writers past. His small apartment is filled to the rafters with tons of books that he has rescued from pulping, to the point that the shelves he has built over his bed and in his bathroom present the constant risk of burying him:
"The way I look at it, my life fits together beautifully: at work I have books -- and bottles and inkwells and staplers -- raining down on me through the opening in the cellar ceiling, and at home I have books above me constantly threatening to fall and kill or at least maim me. The swords of Damocles that I've hung from my bathroom and bedroom ceilings force me to make as many trips for beer at home as at work...." (26)
As he works in his isolated basement, Hant谩 is visited by Jesus and Lao Tse Tung, who present him with radically different models for spiritual engagement on earth. As he walks through Prague, he is surrounded by the architectural ghosts of the classical world. His avocation rescuing and reading books has provided him with a unique education:
"I am a jug filled with water both magic and plain; I have only to lean over and a stream of beautiful thoughts flows out of me. My education has been so unwitting I can't quite tell which of my thoughts come from me and which from my books, but that's how I've stayed attuned to myself and the world around me for the past thirty-five years. Because when I read, I don't really read; I pop a beautiful sentence into my mouth and suck it like a fruit drop, or I sip it like a liqueur until the thought dissolves in me like alcohol, infusing brain and heart and coursing on through the veins to the root of each blood vessel.鈥� (6)
His reading also provides Hant谩 with a means to escape the dismal reality of his life:
"And I huddle in the lee of my paper mountain like Adam in the bushes and pick up a book, and my eyes open panic-stricken on a world other than my own, because when I start reading I'm somewhere completely different, I'm in the text, it's amazing, I have to admit I've been dreaming, dreaming in a land of great beauty, I've been in the very heart of truth." (14)
Throughout the novella, Hrabal seamlessly moves back and forth between Hrabal's reveries about philosophy and books, his memories of past relationships, and his observations of the society that is literally rotting under his feet. There are long, gorgeously written passages that I am tempted to quote at length, alternating with some very disturbing images of the decay and death surrounding Hant谩. In the end, Hant谩's basement sanctuary cannot hide him from the forces for progress that surround him.
Hrabal is known for developing central characters who seem simple, innocent, but who are more in touch with the spiritualism of life than the supposedly well adjusted, but bland, people surrounding them. Hant谩 comes across as a prophet, but one whom no one notices or hears. He sees the dangers of sterile efficiency as the primary goal for a society. Through him, Hrabal leaves us with the question of the value of a life stripped of intellectual and spiritual engagement, one with all rough corners smoothed away to a bland predictability and surface gloss. The book holds tremendous power and relevance for us, even reading across the span of time and space.
Note that the images on the review are taken from different film adaptations of the novella. See for example and .
September 25, 2023
Iat膬 o minun膬葲ie de carte! Merit膬 s-o citi葲i de 卯ndat膬, 卯n orice edi葲ie ve葲i g膬si, exist膬 mai multe, eu am folosit reeditarea de la ART...
Despre ce este vorba 卯n numita carte? Un om, Hanta, tr膬ie葯te printre c膬r葲i, sub mormane de c膬r葲i, 卯ntr-un subsol livresc, plin de 葯oareci, un mic infern; are la dispozi葲ie o pres膬 de h卯rtie, trebuie s膬 transforme c膬r葲ile 卯n baloturi, 卯n ceva omogen, s膬 distrug膬, a葯adar, propozi葲iile, cuvintele, ideile reac葲ionare exprimate acolo. Dar are sufletul 卯ndoit. A fost educat 卯ntr-un regim care pre葲uia c膬r葲ile, putea cita din filosofi (citeaz膬 卯ndeosebi din Hegel, nu este 卯n葲eleptul meu preferat, dar hai...), acum a ajuns s膬 tr膬iasc膬 卯ntr-un regim superior, 卯n socialism, 葯i e obligat s膬 transforme c膬r葲ile 卯ntr-o materie opac膬, pe care se vor tip膬ri clasicii marxism-leninismului 葯i clasicii mai mici.
葮i fiindc膬 are un suflet 卯ndoit, Hanta bea; bea ca s膬-葯i 葲in膬 mintea treaz膬, de asta bea, 葯i nu-葯i pierde nici un moment iste葲imea, nu devine un 鈥瀒diot鈥�, cum au zis unii criticii literari, este numai un ironic dublat de un cinic nefericit. B膬utura 卯i ascute mintea 葯i-i 卯neac膬 amarul. Vorbe葯te tot timpul 葯i 卯葯i bate joc de toate prestigiile, inclusiv de cele religioase: nu prea are respect pentru sfin葲i 葯i martiri: 葯tie c膬 sfin葲ii nu se mai pricep s膬 fac膬 minuni, au ostenit, probabil. Hanta este, prin urmare, un muncitor cu o dubl膬 con葯tiin葲膬, are o con葯tiin葲膬 鈥瀉lienat膬鈥�, ca s膬 folosesc cuvinte din clasici...
Deci Hanta este un mic inadaptat, un 卯nd膬r膬tnic, un poten葲ial du葯man pentru regimul socialist definitiv instalat pe jum膬tate din globul p膬m卯ntesc (sic!), inclusiv 卯n Cehoslovacia. Hrabal a publicat romanul 卯n 1977. Mai mult nu v膬 spun, trebuie s膬 face葲i 葯i Domniile Voastre un mic efort 葯i s膬 cump膬ra葲i negre葯it cartea.
Despre ce este vorba 卯n numita carte? Un om, Hanta, tr膬ie葯te printre c膬r葲i, sub mormane de c膬r葲i, 卯ntr-un subsol livresc, plin de 葯oareci, un mic infern; are la dispozi葲ie o pres膬 de h卯rtie, trebuie s膬 transforme c膬r葲ile 卯n baloturi, 卯n ceva omogen, s膬 distrug膬, a葯adar, propozi葲iile, cuvintele, ideile reac葲ionare exprimate acolo. Dar are sufletul 卯ndoit. A fost educat 卯ntr-un regim care pre葲uia c膬r葲ile, putea cita din filosofi (citeaz膬 卯ndeosebi din Hegel, nu este 卯n葲eleptul meu preferat, dar hai...), acum a ajuns s膬 tr膬iasc膬 卯ntr-un regim superior, 卯n socialism, 葯i e obligat s膬 transforme c膬r葲ile 卯ntr-o materie opac膬, pe care se vor tip膬ri clasicii marxism-leninismului 葯i clasicii mai mici.
葮i fiindc膬 are un suflet 卯ndoit, Hanta bea; bea ca s膬-葯i 葲in膬 mintea treaz膬, de asta bea, 葯i nu-葯i pierde nici un moment iste葲imea, nu devine un 鈥瀒diot鈥�, cum au zis unii criticii literari, este numai un ironic dublat de un cinic nefericit. B膬utura 卯i ascute mintea 葯i-i 卯neac膬 amarul. Vorbe葯te tot timpul 葯i 卯葯i bate joc de toate prestigiile, inclusiv de cele religioase: nu prea are respect pentru sfin葲i 葯i martiri: 葯tie c膬 sfin葲ii nu se mai pricep s膬 fac膬 minuni, au ostenit, probabil. Hanta este, prin urmare, un muncitor cu o dubl膬 con葯tiin葲膬, are o con葯tiin葲膬 鈥瀉lienat膬鈥�, ca s膬 folosesc cuvinte din clasici...
Deci Hanta este un mic inadaptat, un 卯nd膬r膬tnic, un poten葲ial du葯man pentru regimul socialist definitiv instalat pe jum膬tate din globul p膬m卯ntesc (sic!), inclusiv 卯n Cehoslovacia. Hrabal a publicat romanul 卯n 1977. Mai mult nu v膬 spun, trebuie s膬 face葲i 葯i Domniile Voastre un mic efort 葯i s膬 cump膬ra葲i negre葯it cartea.
June 23, 2024
鈥淓l cielo no es humano y el hombre que piensa tampoco lo es鈥�En el libro se homenajea a los intelectuales represaliados por el r茅gimen que tuvieron que dedicarse a los trabajos m谩s bajos, literal y metaf贸ricamente, para sobrevivir; se denuncia la censura y marginaci贸n de diversas manifestaciones art铆sticas, pero, sobre todo, el libro es un bello, exaltado y ebrio canto a los libros y a los lectores: a ese libro en el que todo escritor sue帽a plasmar 鈥渓a mayor suerte y la mayor desgracia de los hombres鈥�, y a esa perfecta lectura que completar谩 y cerrar谩 la admirada obra de arte. Como contrapeso, tambi茅n es un amargo reconocimiento del ineficaz lenitivo, del in煤til remedio y consuelo, que en realidad es toda la literatura, al igual que todas las filosof铆as o todas las doctrinas, cuando el mundo tuerce su curso o cuando todo llega a su fin.
鈥溾€os libros han conspirado contra m铆, sin haberme transmitido ning煤n mensaje del cielo鈥�Ha艌t鈥檃 lleva treinta y cinco a帽os prensando libros y papel viejo en pacas que forra con litograf铆as de grandes cuadros y que rellena con alguno de esos preciosos libros que de vez en cuando le llegan y que 茅l deja abierto por aquella p谩gina que recoge los pensamientos m谩s elevados y bellos. Otros muchos de esos libros son rescatados y llevados a su casa donde ya se acumulan por toneladas. As铆, prensando y pensando se puebla la soledad demasiado ruidosa en la que m铆seramente vive Ha艌t鈥檃 con el 煤nico consuelo de los buenos libros que al terminar la jornada, y con la inestimable ayuda de una buena jarra de cerveza, le explican algo sobre s铆 mismo, algo que todav铆a desconoc铆a.
鈥溾€� cuando leo, de hecho no leo, sino que tomo una frase bella en el pico y la chupo como un caramelo, la sorbo como una copita de licor, la saboreo hasta que, como el alcohol, se disuelve en m铆, la saboreo durante tanto tiempo que acaba no s贸lo penetrando mi cerebro y mi coraz贸n, sino que circula por mis venas hasta las ra铆ces mismas de los vasos sangu铆neos鈥�Hrabal consigue en este tan breve como hermoso relato la comuni贸n de lo excelso y lo sombr铆o, de lo pat茅tico y lo sublime, de lo bello y lo feo, tal y como ocurre en 鈥渓a melancol铆a de este mundo que no se acaba de construir jam谩s鈥�.
鈥溾€� me encontraba en la situaci贸n de aquellos monjes que, cuando Cop茅rnico descubri贸 nuevas leyes c贸smicas seg煤n las cuales la tierra no era el centro del mundo, se vieron incapaces de imaginarse un mundo diferente de aquel en el que hab铆an vivido hasta entonces y se suicidaron en masa鈥�La prensa, que el progreso hace cada vez m谩s grande, es la constancia de la destrucci贸n real de la cultura de toda una 茅poca y, al mismo tiempo, una met谩fora del tiempo que aplasta nuestras propias vidas hasta que ya no queda nada.
鈥淓l cielo no es humano y yo estaba harto鈥�
May 6, 2022
鈥淲hosoever is delighted in solitude is either a wild beast or a god.鈥�
~ Aristotle
And all is lost now
but what have I lost
for what I really had to lose.
Darkness is clouding over me
the time has come
weariness is taking over me,
there were times
when mind and body
used to act in unison.
The child has long gone now
Childishness is also going now
waiting for the eternal plunge.
And I see
there is life
taking birth again
somewhere
the eternal place
where the fates of dusk and dawn get exchange.
The Others say
an exceptional life
have I lived
to say the least
realized a lot
what many could not
but what really I attained
for what really was there
to be attained.
Memories of childhood
clouding over my head,
some of which
I really want to relive
but how
I could not see,
what I see
people whom I know
are falling apart
even their distant memories
seem to be so far.
So many people
here around me
but still I feel alone
as if standing amidst crowd
searching for someone known.
And stalking the people
one by one
still I find none.
And no respite come to me
since even my memories
are about to get free.
So many years have passed
I may have lived enough
but not enough
to understand absurdity of life.
I am still the troubled soul
whom even after so many years
there is nothing
which may console.
For what is there to console
the absurdness of life
what one should brace
and others say
it's a dying soul
but sometimes
I feel otherwise
as it's about to rise
above the epitome of life.
Are these ruminations
not futile
for what is there
to fall and rise.
The anxious mind
searches for distractions
which may
keep it enthrall.
And perhaps
that's what
we may live for at all
till we meet the eternal fall.
For thirty-five years now I鈥檝e been compacting wastepaper, and if I had it all to do over I鈥檇 do just what I鈥檝e done for the past thirty-five years.
The solitude of existence essentially implies that we are alone, literally alone. We are condemned to be free, as existentialists such as Jean-Paul Sartre used to maintain, free to do as we may please. Is it a blessing or a curse? Human beings have been haunted by this age-old question since they became aware of their consciousness, for we have been evolved into conscious beings from our cousins. Once we take birth, we are condemned to be free, of course, the preliminary ventures of life are beyond our control; however, once we become self-conscious, which we eventually do, we are condemned to be free, which essentially means to make choices. We are responsible for everything we do, therefore only we and no one is responsible for our actions. There is no inherent purpose or defined model of life which may be followed to find one鈥檚 true essence, existence precedes essence as put by Sartre. It gives rise to an absurd situation that may provide us the anguish of freedom as an infinite choice may there for us.
Life as we know is inherently meaningless, however, it is the realization of that absurd situation that enables us to realize our true existence as put by Albert Camus. But the inherent lack of meaning of life perhaps gives rise to human suffering, the unbelievable burden of responsibility which a free man bear keeps him in a constant flux of anguish. So do we need to explore as many options as we could? More often than not, we often find refuse in sticking to a few options in the pursuit of money to propel our livelihood. But we are unable to get free from this feeling of restlessness which essentially manifests into existential anxiety, anxiety to look for some meaning, some reference to hold onto, which might free us from this anguish even if that means an inauthentic existence.
Solitude may be bliss as when we are with ourselves, we may contemplate our lives, our choices, and thereby realizing our true and authentic existence. Writing may also be a kind of solitude to reach our inner abyss as Kafka used to say, to render the tumult and turbulence one might be going through while sometimes words are deftly used to concoct an escapade which may indirectly covey one鈥檚 thoughts. A solitude that may be deep, dark, and calm like death could be an enriching for one to experience that all is one and one is all. However, mankind can鈥檛 simply cut off with the outer world, since we need to define our boundaries in the outer physical world, to survive through mundane happenings of life with bouts of solitude interspersed among them. As we are social beings, there is a need -鈥榦thers鈥� to see ourselves through their eyes in search of happiness which may essentially be inauthentic and shallow. In the background of this constant struggle between living our selves and behaving as per our 鈥榮ocial鈥� norms, there lies utter loneliness like an abyss, a void.
Literature may provide us the necessary refuge, the distraction, the medium we need to save ourselves from getting mad. For, it may act as a tool, a man always looks for, to get away from his inner tumult, it might provide the balmy, the soothing effect, even if it is illusionary, we need to brave the horrors of our existential solitude. The literature has got the ability to withstand the horrific acts of humanity, it may act as a mirror to us, which might reflect our inner-selves to us, however, more often than not, humanity is so shameless that it doesn't get ashamed even after looking into such mirror, as Hegel said-The only thing we learn from history is that we learn nothing from history. Yet it is the black hole we need, which gives rise to life, which absorbs all our insolence, our despotism, abuse, exploits, perversions, and persistently reflects only the condensed consciousness of those who care for humanity-a sort of caring and nurturing magic of existence.
Ha艌t谩 has been compacting trash for thirty-five years. Every evening he rescues books from the jaws of his hydraulic press, carries them home, and fills his house with them. He has created a universe of his own embedded in our physical world. He takes refuge from his mundane, repugnant, inauthentic existence into his little universe built upon literature. The universe of Ha艌t谩 is strange, he breathes words, eats pages and lives with Hegel, Goethe, Leibniz, Sartre, Cezannes, Kant, Schopenhauer and others from the realm of literature and art in a microcosm, hanging in a delicate balance of being and nothingness through a dirty cellar, witnessing to the struggle of mice of different colors from the underground sewers.
The tyrannical weight of hydraulic press destroys pages and books by pressing them into destruction, however, it could not demolish the wisdom of those pages as indestructibility of words survives through the horror of the press to enlighten the solitude of existence of the narrator. The universe of Ha艌t谩 may seem to be insignificant, suspended through a thin thread from the hell of nothingness, but it鈥檚 the paradise created by the narrator for himself wherein he may have a one-to-one conversation with Jesus and Lao Tze, and which fulfills the abyss of loneliness of his existence.
Such a world could be a paradise for any book lover, some of us may even envy of Ha艌t谩, for there could be infinite possibilities in his world, a kind of multiverse having parallel universes existing simultaneously on the space-time continuum, wherein one move to and fro in time as if it鈥檚 one of the dimensions with literature providing the force of gravity which may transcend universes and times. A world which provides the weak, downtrodden to realize his true essence, to overcome his loneliness of existence through bearing the unbearable responsibility of being free, absolutely free; to realize the true, authentic existence of himself.
The novella in a way depicts the totalitarian political regime of Czechoslovakia during the life of Bohumil Hrabal or any such regime for that matter since literature has to breathe the air of oppression, tyranny, abuse, and persecution in such a nether world. However, it is the resilience of the literature which enables it to survive the horror of inhumane acts we have executed throughout our abominable history, to come out in the light of the resurrection and to breathe in the air of perseverance, and that鈥檚 how the greatest literature has survived, perfectly complementing the human spirit of feisty existence in this inhumane world.
This is the first time I got a chance to dip my literary senses into the world of Brabal and I find it quite enriching and delightful to hear out Bohumil Hrabal's cry for humanism amidst our indifferent world.
Neither the heavens are humane nor is life above or below- or within me.
4/5
*edited on 05.07.2020
~ Aristotle
And all is lost now
but what have I lost
for what I really had to lose.
Darkness is clouding over me
the time has come
weariness is taking over me,
there were times
when mind and body
used to act in unison.
The child has long gone now
Childishness is also going now
waiting for the eternal plunge.
And I see
there is life
taking birth again
somewhere
the eternal place
where the fates of dusk and dawn get exchange.
The Others say
an exceptional life
have I lived
to say the least
realized a lot
what many could not
but what really I attained
for what really was there
to be attained.
Memories of childhood
clouding over my head,
some of which
I really want to relive
but how
I could not see,
what I see
people whom I know
are falling apart
even their distant memories
seem to be so far.
So many people
here around me
but still I feel alone
as if standing amidst crowd
searching for someone known.
And stalking the people
one by one
still I find none.
And no respite come to me
since even my memories
are about to get free.
So many years have passed
I may have lived enough
but not enough
to understand absurdity of life.
I am still the troubled soul
whom even after so many years
there is nothing
which may console.
For what is there to console
the absurdness of life
what one should brace
and others say
it's a dying soul
but sometimes
I feel otherwise
as it's about to rise
above the epitome of life.
Are these ruminations
not futile
for what is there
to fall and rise.
The anxious mind
searches for distractions
which may
keep it enthrall.
And perhaps
that's what
we may live for at all
till we meet the eternal fall.
For thirty-five years now I鈥檝e been compacting wastepaper, and if I had it all to do over I鈥檇 do just what I鈥檝e done for the past thirty-five years.
The solitude of existence essentially implies that we are alone, literally alone. We are condemned to be free, as existentialists such as Jean-Paul Sartre used to maintain, free to do as we may please. Is it a blessing or a curse? Human beings have been haunted by this age-old question since they became aware of their consciousness, for we have been evolved into conscious beings from our cousins. Once we take birth, we are condemned to be free, of course, the preliminary ventures of life are beyond our control; however, once we become self-conscious, which we eventually do, we are condemned to be free, which essentially means to make choices. We are responsible for everything we do, therefore only we and no one is responsible for our actions. There is no inherent purpose or defined model of life which may be followed to find one鈥檚 true essence, existence precedes essence as put by Sartre. It gives rise to an absurd situation that may provide us the anguish of freedom as an infinite choice may there for us.
Life as we know is inherently meaningless, however, it is the realization of that absurd situation that enables us to realize our true existence as put by Albert Camus. But the inherent lack of meaning of life perhaps gives rise to human suffering, the unbelievable burden of responsibility which a free man bear keeps him in a constant flux of anguish. So do we need to explore as many options as we could? More often than not, we often find refuse in sticking to a few options in the pursuit of money to propel our livelihood. But we are unable to get free from this feeling of restlessness which essentially manifests into existential anxiety, anxiety to look for some meaning, some reference to hold onto, which might free us from this anguish even if that means an inauthentic existence.
Solitude may be bliss as when we are with ourselves, we may contemplate our lives, our choices, and thereby realizing our true and authentic existence. Writing may also be a kind of solitude to reach our inner abyss as Kafka used to say, to render the tumult and turbulence one might be going through while sometimes words are deftly used to concoct an escapade which may indirectly covey one鈥檚 thoughts. A solitude that may be deep, dark, and calm like death could be an enriching for one to experience that all is one and one is all. However, mankind can鈥檛 simply cut off with the outer world, since we need to define our boundaries in the outer physical world, to survive through mundane happenings of life with bouts of solitude interspersed among them. As we are social beings, there is a need -鈥榦thers鈥� to see ourselves through their eyes in search of happiness which may essentially be inauthentic and shallow. In the background of this constant struggle between living our selves and behaving as per our 鈥榮ocial鈥� norms, there lies utter loneliness like an abyss, a void.
Literature may provide us the necessary refuge, the distraction, the medium we need to save ourselves from getting mad. For, it may act as a tool, a man always looks for, to get away from his inner tumult, it might provide the balmy, the soothing effect, even if it is illusionary, we need to brave the horrors of our existential solitude. The literature has got the ability to withstand the horrific acts of humanity, it may act as a mirror to us, which might reflect our inner-selves to us, however, more often than not, humanity is so shameless that it doesn't get ashamed even after looking into such mirror, as Hegel said-The only thing we learn from history is that we learn nothing from history. Yet it is the black hole we need, which gives rise to life, which absorbs all our insolence, our despotism, abuse, exploits, perversions, and persistently reflects only the condensed consciousness of those who care for humanity-a sort of caring and nurturing magic of existence.
Ha艌t谩 has been compacting trash for thirty-five years. Every evening he rescues books from the jaws of his hydraulic press, carries them home, and fills his house with them. He has created a universe of his own embedded in our physical world. He takes refuge from his mundane, repugnant, inauthentic existence into his little universe built upon literature. The universe of Ha艌t谩 is strange, he breathes words, eats pages and lives with Hegel, Goethe, Leibniz, Sartre, Cezannes, Kant, Schopenhauer and others from the realm of literature and art in a microcosm, hanging in a delicate balance of being and nothingness through a dirty cellar, witnessing to the struggle of mice of different colors from the underground sewers.
The tyrannical weight of hydraulic press destroys pages and books by pressing them into destruction, however, it could not demolish the wisdom of those pages as indestructibility of words survives through the horror of the press to enlighten the solitude of existence of the narrator. The universe of Ha艌t谩 may seem to be insignificant, suspended through a thin thread from the hell of nothingness, but it鈥檚 the paradise created by the narrator for himself wherein he may have a one-to-one conversation with Jesus and Lao Tze, and which fulfills the abyss of loneliness of his existence.
Such a world could be a paradise for any book lover, some of us may even envy of Ha艌t谩, for there could be infinite possibilities in his world, a kind of multiverse having parallel universes existing simultaneously on the space-time continuum, wherein one move to and fro in time as if it鈥檚 one of the dimensions with literature providing the force of gravity which may transcend universes and times. A world which provides the weak, downtrodden to realize his true essence, to overcome his loneliness of existence through bearing the unbearable responsibility of being free, absolutely free; to realize the true, authentic existence of himself.
The novella in a way depicts the totalitarian political regime of Czechoslovakia during the life of Bohumil Hrabal or any such regime for that matter since literature has to breathe the air of oppression, tyranny, abuse, and persecution in such a nether world. However, it is the resilience of the literature which enables it to survive the horror of inhumane acts we have executed throughout our abominable history, to come out in the light of the resurrection and to breathe in the air of perseverance, and that鈥檚 how the greatest literature has survived, perfectly complementing the human spirit of feisty existence in this inhumane world.
This is the first time I got a chance to dip my literary senses into the world of Brabal and I find it quite enriching and delightful to hear out Bohumil Hrabal's cry for humanism amidst our indifferent world.
Neither the heavens are humane nor is life above or below- or within me.
4/5
*edited on 05.07.2020
September 22, 2019
Well, it is that. But it absolutely is not that at all.
鈥�Every beloved object is the center of a garden of paradise.鈥�
This is a beautiful paean to the transformative power of words on paper.
About finding beauty in the dirtiest, most unlikely places.
How devotion can manifest itself in pleasure at saving and destroying.
How destruction of what one loves can become a sacramental, sacrificial art.
How a person can become one with the focus of their life and passion.
鈥�I have a physical sense of myself as a bale of compacted books, the seat of a tiny pilot light of karma.鈥�
The opening pages made me deliriously drunk as they piled more and more ways to express a passionate, visceral love of books. More delirium from the disconcerting awareness that this booklover destroys far more books than he saves. He describes himself as 鈥渁 refined butcher鈥�, relishing the physical sensations of his work.
鈥�I loved the feel of paper in my fingers鈥� to experience the palpable charm of wastepaper.鈥�
Nevertheless, through the "subterranean subtext", I read him as more priest than butcher.
鈥�When I read, I don鈥檛 really read; I pop a beautiful sentence in my mouth and sip it like a liqueur until the thought dissolves in me like alcohol, infusing brain and heart.鈥�
I was hooked from the start, as any booklover should be.
Status Quo
In the first half, Hant鈥檃 doggedly does his work, biding his time until retirement. Repetitively ripping books apart, putting them in the drum, pressing the green and red buttons, compressing them into bales - even if there are mice inside. His boss rails at him. He looks forward to visits from gypsy girls. He drinks. But he鈥檚 always looking out for special books, mostly for himself, but also for one or two friends. His home is heaving with them; shelves piled perilously high, even over his bed.
鈥�I hear the books above me plotting their revenge鈥� the Sword of Damocles that I鈥檝e hung from my bathroom and bedroom ceilings.鈥�
Hant鈥檃 reads and loves great literature, especially ancient Greek and Roman philosophers, whose ideas he applies to who and what he sees around him. He views his job as a profession requiring a classical education and ideally a degree in divinity, which seems a bit back-to-front: he has acquired such erudition by doing the job, or by not doing it.
In every bale, he puts something special, 鈥渓ike a priest on the altar鈥�: a book open at a beautiful passage, or a print of a great painting: 鈥渕y ritual, my mass鈥�. The press squeezes 鈥渓ike fingers clasping in a deeper prayer鈥�. He relishes the secrecy, 鈥淚 am both artist and audience鈥�, while hoping someone notices and is uplifted.
The circle of life is not limited to people: his press destroys books to make clean paper for another press to print new books.
Progress is The End
鈥�The dreams I never dreamed came true.鈥�
One day, he visits a huge new processing plant: full of sunlight and sparkling equipment. Like a cathedral. But not his church. The future. But not his future.
The happy young workers in their jolly uniforms have 鈥渘o feeling for what the book might mean, no thought that somebody had to write the book鈥� edit鈥� design鈥� proofread鈥� print鈥� bind鈥�. Worse still, many of the books are remaindered, pulped 鈥渂efore a single page could be sullied by human eye, brain, or heart鈥� Workers tearing open the boxes, taking the virgin books out of them, pulling the covers off, and tossing the naked insides on the belt鈥�. It鈥檚 like ripping chickens apart in the slaughterhouse. Suddenly, it鈥檚 easy to see the beauty of Hant鈥檃鈥檚 work, in his filthy cellar.
He plucks a precious old book from the conveyor belt:
鈥�It shakes in my hands like a bride鈥檚 bouquet at the altar.鈥�
The visit is transformative. Hant鈥檃 wanders the city in a daze, revisiting friends and old haunts:
鈥�The clock told a useless time: I had nowhere to go, I was floating in space.鈥�
The ending was sublime.
Image from the 1996 film, which I've not seen. See imdb .
Quotes
I want to copy out the whole first chapter and large chunks of the rest. Here鈥檚 a taste from only 98 pages.
鈥� 鈥淚 am a jug filled with water both magic and plain; I have only to lean over and a stream of beautiful thoughts flows out of me.鈥�
鈥� 鈥淲hen my eye lands on a real book and looks past the printed word, what it sees is disembodied thoughts flying through the air, gliding on air, living off air鈥� just as the host is and is not the blood of Christ.鈥�
鈥� 鈥淭housands of cobalt-colored flies鈥� their metallic wings and bodies embroidered an immense tableau vivant made up of constantly shifting curves and splashes like the flow of paint in those gigantic Jackson Pollocks.鈥�
鈥� 鈥淚neffable joy and even greater woe鈥� come from literacy.
鈥� 鈥淚 am never lonely. I鈥檓 simply alone, living in my heavily populated solitude.鈥�
鈥� 鈥淢y head spinning from too loud a solitude鈥� in the cellar.
鈥� 鈥淔or we are like olives: only when we are crushed do we yield what is best in us.鈥� From the Talmud.
Related Reading
Before this, there was Kafka鈥檚 In The Penal Colony (see my review HERE).
After this, there was Ray Bradbury鈥檚 Fahrenheit 451 (see my review HERE).
And there's a real-life garbage man in Bogota who's saved 25,000 books: .
Hrabal writes:
鈥�Inquisitors burn books in vain. If a book has anything to say, it burns with a quiet laugh.鈥�
When Hant鈥檃 rescues a book,
鈥�I walk home like a burning house鈥� the light of life pouring out of the fire, fire pouring out of the dying wood, hostile sorrow lingering under the ashes.鈥�
Here's a link to a 2-minute excerpt of an animated adaptation from 2007 (thanks to Diane S): .
Details on imdb .
GR Friends
This book had been vaguely on my TBR, but it was a delightful day in London with Laysee, including a trip to the renowned Foyles, that meant I bought and read it. Thank you, Laysee.
December 16, 2017
...IO SONO UN PO' UNO SPACCONE DELL'INFINITO E DELL'ETERNIT脌 E L'INFINITO E L'ETERNIT脌 FORSE HANNO UN DEBOLE PER LE PERSONE COME ME<
Adattamento cinematografico del 1996, 鈥淯ne trop bruyante solitude鈥� di V茅ra Ca茂s, protagonista il mai abbastanza rimpianto Philippe Noiret.
... un libro come si deve rimanda sempre altrove e fuori.
Cosa che sicuramente Hrabal fa molto bene, qui, e nel resto delle sue opere: le sue parole 'aprono', rimandano altrove e fuori.
A cominciare dalla meraviglia dei suoi titoli: una solitudine troppo rumorosa, treni strettamente sorvegliati...
Solo a Wim Wenders potrebbero venire in mente titoli cos矛 belli ed evocativi (oltre il titolo, per貌, Wenders, si ferma, ormai da decenni 猫 cos矛).
鈥漈oo Loud A Solitude鈥� un adattamento ad animazione del 2007 diretto da Genevieve Anderson.
E questo libro cos'猫?
Un romanzo non direi.
Un racconto lungo forse.
O, forse, una poesia in prosa?
Pieno di ironia e di lirismo, il tenero barbaro, come lo stesso Hrabal si definisce, crudamente tenero, pone accanto allo scolo un brillante, e sono ancora parole sue.
Mai come qui, la materia fecale mi 猫 parsa pregna di luce, poesia e splendore.
...era convinto che il predecessore di Ges霉 fosse Icaro, giusto con la differenza che Icaro era stato tirato dai cieli gi霉 nel mare, mentre Ges霉, con un missile Atlante, potenza centottanta tonnellate, era stato messo in orbita attorno alla terra, e da l矛 regnava fino a oggi...
Adattamento cinematografico del 1996, 鈥淯ne trop bruyante solitude鈥� di V茅ra Ca茂s, protagonista il mai abbastanza rimpianto Philippe Noiret.
... un libro come si deve rimanda sempre altrove e fuori.
Cosa che sicuramente Hrabal fa molto bene, qui, e nel resto delle sue opere: le sue parole 'aprono', rimandano altrove e fuori.
A cominciare dalla meraviglia dei suoi titoli: una solitudine troppo rumorosa, treni strettamente sorvegliati...
Solo a Wim Wenders potrebbero venire in mente titoli cos矛 belli ed evocativi (oltre il titolo, per貌, Wenders, si ferma, ormai da decenni 猫 cos矛).
鈥漈oo Loud A Solitude鈥� un adattamento ad animazione del 2007 diretto da Genevieve Anderson.
E questo libro cos'猫?
Un romanzo non direi.
Un racconto lungo forse.
O, forse, una poesia in prosa?
Pieno di ironia e di lirismo, il tenero barbaro, come lo stesso Hrabal si definisce, crudamente tenero, pone accanto allo scolo un brillante, e sono ancora parole sue.
Mai come qui, la materia fecale mi 猫 parsa pregna di luce, poesia e splendore.
...era convinto che il predecessore di Ges霉 fosse Icaro, giusto con la differenza che Icaro era stato tirato dai cieli gi霉 nel mare, mentre Ges霉, con un missile Atlante, potenza centottanta tonnellate, era stato messo in orbita attorno alla terra, e da l矛 regnava fino a oggi...
August 6, 2014
Rare books perish in my press, under my hands, yet I am unable to stop their flow: I am nothing but a refined butcher. Books have taught me the joy of devastation.
A trip down the history lane by walking through the ruins which once stood tall in their resplendence and laurels can make one hear the echoes of steadfast voices that match the rhythm of our steps and seek to become the teller of stories of an era gone by, of wars fought, won and lost; of love 鈥� both passionate and eternal. In the same vein, here鈥檚 the Love story of Ha艌钮a and here鈥檚 a Love letter to his readers. We have a tragedy here and a tragic hero but he is not alone in his anguish and obsession. We have happiness here and a hopeless romantic, but he is not alone in his love. His solitude is loud but not deafening. The shadows of his thoughts are both sad and euphoric. He鈥檚 a part of us and we are a part of him.
I'm the only one on earth who knows that deep in the heart of each bale there's a wide-open Faust or Don Carlos, that here, buried beneath a mound of blood-soaked cardboard, lies a Hyperion, there, cushioned on piles of cement bags rests a Thus Spake Zarathustra; I'm the only one on earth who knows which bale has Goethe, which Schiller, which Holderlin, which Nietzsche.
Adorned with Hrabal鈥檚 beautiful prose, the ballad of Ha艌钮a belongs to a world which is surrounded by darkness both literal and symbolical wherein all sorts of wars are going on. In those wars, the biggest sin is committed towards books and our protagonist is one of the unfortunate perpetrators in suppressing the words of the literary masters. The moral contradictions of his life is enough to evoke a sense of empathy and his efforts towards mitigating the effect of irrevocable curses of humanity presents a hope for fair and harmonious existence.
Lost in my dreams, I somehow cross at the traffic signals, never bumping into street lamps or people, yet moving onward, exuding fumes of beer and grime, yet smiling, because my briefcase is full of books and that very night I expect them to tell me things about myself I don't know.
And there鈥檚 always so much to know. I talk very little when I want to talk about books in real life. It is better that way but I quietly tag along the written words wherever I go. If there鈥檚 a conversation about love then I think about my lovely Jane Eyre. If someone touches upon the subject of marriage then Mrs. Dalloway stands beside me with all her regrets and whims. Italo Calvino is always there on a starry night and in the moments of melancholy, the narratives created by Javier Mar铆as and Carson McCullers come alive. At the end of the day though, solitude is what I yearn for. That鈥檚 when the real party begins which usually brings me to this one question. A question which used to hover in my mind and the answer to which I was searching for some time. An answer in the form of some printed testimony. An answer laden with certitude, beauty and truth. An answer I can use to quiet the inquisitive utterances and to actually make others see and understand in the best way possible. The question is: Why do you read? The answer for me : This little gem of a book. Read it to find and feel that tear trickling down your cheek; that smile coming across your face; that pride in recognizing the infinite grandeur of words.
This book has taught me the joy of being a bibliophile.
A trip down the history lane by walking through the ruins which once stood tall in their resplendence and laurels can make one hear the echoes of steadfast voices that match the rhythm of our steps and seek to become the teller of stories of an era gone by, of wars fought, won and lost; of love 鈥� both passionate and eternal. In the same vein, here鈥檚 the Love story of Ha艌钮a and here鈥檚 a Love letter to his readers. We have a tragedy here and a tragic hero but he is not alone in his anguish and obsession. We have happiness here and a hopeless romantic, but he is not alone in his love. His solitude is loud but not deafening. The shadows of his thoughts are both sad and euphoric. He鈥檚 a part of us and we are a part of him.
I'm the only one on earth who knows that deep in the heart of each bale there's a wide-open Faust or Don Carlos, that here, buried beneath a mound of blood-soaked cardboard, lies a Hyperion, there, cushioned on piles of cement bags rests a Thus Spake Zarathustra; I'm the only one on earth who knows which bale has Goethe, which Schiller, which Holderlin, which Nietzsche.
Adorned with Hrabal鈥檚 beautiful prose, the ballad of Ha艌钮a belongs to a world which is surrounded by darkness both literal and symbolical wherein all sorts of wars are going on. In those wars, the biggest sin is committed towards books and our protagonist is one of the unfortunate perpetrators in suppressing the words of the literary masters. The moral contradictions of his life is enough to evoke a sense of empathy and his efforts towards mitigating the effect of irrevocable curses of humanity presents a hope for fair and harmonious existence.
Lost in my dreams, I somehow cross at the traffic signals, never bumping into street lamps or people, yet moving onward, exuding fumes of beer and grime, yet smiling, because my briefcase is full of books and that very night I expect them to tell me things about myself I don't know.
And there鈥檚 always so much to know. I talk very little when I want to talk about books in real life. It is better that way but I quietly tag along the written words wherever I go. If there鈥檚 a conversation about love then I think about my lovely Jane Eyre. If someone touches upon the subject of marriage then Mrs. Dalloway stands beside me with all her regrets and whims. Italo Calvino is always there on a starry night and in the moments of melancholy, the narratives created by Javier Mar铆as and Carson McCullers come alive. At the end of the day though, solitude is what I yearn for. That鈥檚 when the real party begins which usually brings me to this one question. A question which used to hover in my mind and the answer to which I was searching for some time. An answer in the form of some printed testimony. An answer laden with certitude, beauty and truth. An answer I can use to quiet the inquisitive utterances and to actually make others see and understand in the best way possible. The question is: Why do you read? The answer for me : This little gem of a book. Read it to find and feel that tear trickling down your cheek; that smile coming across your face; that pride in recognizing the infinite grandeur of words.
This book has taught me the joy of being a bibliophile.
December 17, 2017
Existence. Tearing Existence. Endearing Existence. Suppressed Existence. Spirited Existence. Delusional Existence. Resuscitating Existence. Multiple Existence. Solitary Existence. Existence.
Overriding all the comprehensible and perplexing spaces joining the various uneven points of existence in the larger lattice of congruent existence, I have pushed the ship of my life with the ardour of a sincere helmsman, trained to always prioritize steering over stalling. But did someone tell me that the sea is more legendary for the turbulence it unleashes than the serenity it gifts? Perhaps that should have helped me. And Ha艌钮a. Or maybe not.
But Ha艌钮a treasured his existence. And his love-story was one I could step up and embrace as my own. He was no ordinary, ragged-shirt-cobbled-shoes-torn-hat-haggard in a reclusive, submerged workplace. He was a connoisseur; connoisseur of books! Precious and banned books, in their elegant covers, finely crafted edges and embellished spines; oh, they sent him into a tizzy, especially the words wafting from the wombs of papyruses christened by flagbearers of philosophy that he would expertly secure just before feeding them to the gurgling press. In the words of Aristotle and Sophocles, Kant and Goethe, Camus and Sartre, he dissolved his solitude to see it crystallize into priceless turquoise of redefining beauty and wisdom, galloping on whose back, he conquered thirty-five years of cold shoulders and defiling glances. Recreating a literary world within his lackadaisical real world was a symptomatic victory, a roaring flush of medals of sorts that left Ha艌钮a insulated to the economic upheavals and social abandonments.
But if forgiving was the name in distribution, the world would come last for anointment. Staying true to its dubious reputation, the outside world belched its ugly phlegm and the putrid liquid eventually quarantined Ha艌钮a; well, almost.
I am certain that Ha艌钮a was a literary doppelg盲nger of Hrabal. When Hrabal finished penning this work in 1976, the politically charged environment of the erstwhile Czechoslovakia forbade him from publishing it. He went ahead nonetheless and self-published it, almost as a testament to his indomitable spirit and an ode to his feisty existence. But the next thirteen years were a tedious, exhaustive journey of moving from a suppressed voice of searing potential to an emulated voice of inspiring intellect, almost an agonizing punishment for a wise but recalcitrant writer. I suspect he lived those intermediate years, drawing strength from the books he read and the imaginations he permitted; sprinkling his reading sessions with humor and surrealism and erecting insurmountable walls of perennial refuge. There must have been excruciating periods of muffled freedom when his immediate circular cellar would have deserted him and the restorative heartbeat of his philosophical utopia may not have been audible either. But he continued tending to his cognitive saplings, across seasons, in all those years. And I am glad the purifying aroma of the flowers from this patient gardener鈥檚 garden finally reached us; resurrecting an existence that was truly wholesome because it respected the many fractures within.
Overriding all the comprehensible and perplexing spaces joining the various uneven points of existence in the larger lattice of congruent existence, I have pushed the ship of my life with the ardour of a sincere helmsman, trained to always prioritize steering over stalling. But did someone tell me that the sea is more legendary for the turbulence it unleashes than the serenity it gifts? Perhaps that should have helped me. And Ha艌钮a. Or maybe not.
"For thirty-five years now I've been in wastepaper, and it's my love story."Ha艌钮a is not a man you would meet on the road; you would meet him underneath it! As you heard him, our dear Ha艌钮a has been recycling papers in his hydraulic press in a basement cellar for thirty-five years now. A failed affair, a dismantled family, no friends and a shrewd boss; you would think he was a weightless mass.
But Ha艌钮a treasured his existence. And his love-story was one I could step up and embrace as my own. He was no ordinary, ragged-shirt-cobbled-shoes-torn-hat-haggard in a reclusive, submerged workplace. He was a connoisseur; connoisseur of books! Precious and banned books, in their elegant covers, finely crafted edges and embellished spines; oh, they sent him into a tizzy, especially the words wafting from the wombs of papyruses christened by flagbearers of philosophy that he would expertly secure just before feeding them to the gurgling press. In the words of Aristotle and Sophocles, Kant and Goethe, Camus and Sartre, he dissolved his solitude to see it crystallize into priceless turquoise of redefining beauty and wisdom, galloping on whose back, he conquered thirty-five years of cold shoulders and defiling glances. Recreating a literary world within his lackadaisical real world was a symptomatic victory, a roaring flush of medals of sorts that left Ha艌钮a insulated to the economic upheavals and social abandonments.
But if forgiving was the name in distribution, the world would come last for anointment. Staying true to its dubious reputation, the outside world belched its ugly phlegm and the putrid liquid eventually quarantined Ha艌钮a; well, almost.
I am certain that Ha艌钮a was a literary doppelg盲nger of Hrabal. When Hrabal finished penning this work in 1976, the politically charged environment of the erstwhile Czechoslovakia forbade him from publishing it. He went ahead nonetheless and self-published it, almost as a testament to his indomitable spirit and an ode to his feisty existence. But the next thirteen years were a tedious, exhaustive journey of moving from a suppressed voice of searing potential to an emulated voice of inspiring intellect, almost an agonizing punishment for a wise but recalcitrant writer. I suspect he lived those intermediate years, drawing strength from the books he read and the imaginations he permitted; sprinkling his reading sessions with humor and surrealism and erecting insurmountable walls of perennial refuge. There must have been excruciating periods of muffled freedom when his immediate circular cellar would have deserted him and the restorative heartbeat of his philosophical utopia may not have been audible either. But he continued tending to his cognitive saplings, across seasons, in all those years. And I am glad the purifying aroma of the flowers from this patient gardener鈥檚 garden finally reached us; resurrecting an existence that was truly wholesome because it respected the many fractures within.
February 7, 2016
鈥淟iterature is resistance鈥�, the lugubrious voice of the narrator, who speaks from the sewers of our conscience, whispers in ruthless crudity.
Literature keeps Hant鈥檃 alive in the suffocating cellar that he shares with filthy rodents, giant botflies and gypsy prostitutes.
For thirty-five years, Hant鈥檃 has worked the jaws of his hydraulic press destroying all kind of books, lithographs and artistic imprints by trade and saving them for passion. The physical books disappear, but their essence remains embedded on Hant鈥檃鈥檚 tortured mind.
Literature under any totalitarian system defies oppression because it gives access to alternative realities that cannot be silenced by persecution. Those living in the underworld, tyrannized by absurd authority recover the condition of their lost humanity through words written by others. Their freedom is surrogate, for it derives from the appropriation of thoughts not originally theirs. And yet they allow them to persist, to keep on fighting, to embrace abstract fellowship from a permanent exile, to feel alive amidst an inanimate existence.
Literature is interxtuality printed on a page. A multidimensional universe folded in a two-dimensional support. That is why Hant鈥檃 can maintain a dialogue with Lao-Tse and Jesus while greenish flies splatter the bloody wrappers discarded by the butcher and summon a Jackson Pollock鈥檚 painting back to life.
Literature allows the marginalized to be born again and again and to endure the leaden guilt, the horrifying weakness, the shameful need for self-preservation that prevents them from remembering what the color of happiness looked like.
鈥淓very beloved object is the center of a garden of paradise.鈥�
Hant鈥檃鈥檚 idea of paradise is a kite with a blurred text on it soaring the azure skies of a past that has become unbearable fiction. And, even though the heavens are not humane, those who hear the quiet ascension of words rising up from the pages they caress with their eyes won鈥檛 ever feel abandoned.
The chirping of voices in their minds will be too loud for them to be lonely and instead, when their spirits surrender to the foreboding of dark times ahead, they won鈥檛 feel the sharp edge of loneliness piercing their precious memories; they will bask in the solitude that grants them painless access to bygone lives and incandescent loves that were extinguished a long time ago.
The real world might be washed out, but the memories, branded in incandescent ink, will write and rewrite their life stories and make them blow in the winter winds.
So for now, I am winter.
Literature keeps Hant鈥檃 alive in the suffocating cellar that he shares with filthy rodents, giant botflies and gypsy prostitutes.
For thirty-five years, Hant鈥檃 has worked the jaws of his hydraulic press destroying all kind of books, lithographs and artistic imprints by trade and saving them for passion. The physical books disappear, but their essence remains embedded on Hant鈥檃鈥檚 tortured mind.
Literature under any totalitarian system defies oppression because it gives access to alternative realities that cannot be silenced by persecution. Those living in the underworld, tyrannized by absurd authority recover the condition of their lost humanity through words written by others. Their freedom is surrogate, for it derives from the appropriation of thoughts not originally theirs. And yet they allow them to persist, to keep on fighting, to embrace abstract fellowship from a permanent exile, to feel alive amidst an inanimate existence.
Literature is interxtuality printed on a page. A multidimensional universe folded in a two-dimensional support. That is why Hant鈥檃 can maintain a dialogue with Lao-Tse and Jesus while greenish flies splatter the bloody wrappers discarded by the butcher and summon a Jackson Pollock鈥檚 painting back to life.
Literature allows the marginalized to be born again and again and to endure the leaden guilt, the horrifying weakness, the shameful need for self-preservation that prevents them from remembering what the color of happiness looked like.
鈥淓very beloved object is the center of a garden of paradise.鈥�
Hant鈥檃鈥檚 idea of paradise is a kite with a blurred text on it soaring the azure skies of a past that has become unbearable fiction. And, even though the heavens are not humane, those who hear the quiet ascension of words rising up from the pages they caress with their eyes won鈥檛 ever feel abandoned.
The chirping of voices in their minds will be too loud for them to be lonely and instead, when their spirits surrender to the foreboding of dark times ahead, they won鈥檛 feel the sharp edge of loneliness piercing their precious memories; they will bask in the solitude that grants them painless access to bygone lives and incandescent loves that were extinguished a long time ago.
The real world might be washed out, but the memories, branded in incandescent ink, will write and rewrite their life stories and make them blow in the winter winds.
So for now, I am winter.
November 21, 2015
賲賴賲 鬲乇蹖賳 禺氐賵氐蹖鬲 讴鬲丕亘貙 賳孬乇 卮丕毓乇丕賳賴 卮賴. 蹖毓賳蹖 賳孬乇蹖 讴賴 亘賴 噩丕蹖 乇賵丕蹖鬲 賵賯丕蹖毓 毓蹖賳蹖貙 亘賴 亘蹖丕賳 鬲賵氐蹖賮蹖-丕爻鬲毓丕乇蹖 匕賴賳蹖丕鬲貙 亘乇丿丕卮鬲 賴丕貙 丕賮讴丕乇 賵 賯囟丕賵鬲 賴丕蹖 乇丕賵蹖 賲蹖 倬乇丿丕夭賴. 亘賴 賳馗乇賲 趩蹖夭蹖 讴賴 讴鬲丕亘 乇賵 丕蹖賳 賯丿乇 賲丨亘賵亘 讴乇丿賴 賴賲 賴賲蹖賳 賳孬乇賴.
毓賱丕賵賴 亘乇 丕蹖賳貙 賵賯丕蹖毓蹖 讴賴 乇禺 賲蹖丿賴貙 诏丕賴蹖 禺蹖賱蹖 夭蹖亘丕 賴爻鬲賳. 賲孬賱 賲賳丕爻讴 诏匕丕卮鬲賳 卮丕賴讴丕乇賴丕 賲蹖丕賳 賴乇 亘爻鬲賴 蹖 讴丕睾匕 亘丕胤賱賴 賵 倬蹖趩蹖丿賳 賴乇 讴丿賵賲 丿乇 蹖讴 鬲丕亘賱賵 賳賯丕卮蹖.
蹖丕 氐丨賳賴 蹖 丿蹖丿賳 賲爻蹖丨 賵 賱丕卅賵鬲爻賴 丿乇 丨蹖賳 賲爻鬲蹖貙 賵 賲賯丕蹖爻賴 蹖 乇賵丨蹖丕鬲 賵 丕賳丿蹖卮賴 賴丕卮賵賳.
蹖丕 鬲賱丕卮 賲匕亘賵丨丕賳賴 蹖 乇丕賵蹖 亘乇丕 賳噩丕鬲 丿丕丿賳 讴鬲丕亘 賴丕蹖 賳賮蹖爻 讴鬲丕亘禺丕賳賴 蹖 爻賱胤賳鬲蹖貙 賵 氐丨賳賴 蹖 賳丕亘賵丿 卮丿賳 讴鬲丕亘 賴丕 丿乇 賯胤丕乇 夭蹖乇 亘丕乇丕賳 賵 噩丕乇蹖 卮丿賳 噩賵賴乇 卮爻鬲賴 卮丿賴 蹖 讴鬲丕亘 賴丕 丕夭 丕胤乇丕賮 賯胤丕乇.
噩丿丕蹖 丕夭 丕蹖賳貙 讴鬲丕亘 丿丕爻鬲丕賳 賲賳爻噩賲蹖 賳丿丕卮鬲. 卮乇丨 丕賳丿蹖卮賴 賴丕 賵 禺丕胤乇丕鬲 蹖讴 讴丕乇诏乇 亘丕夭蹖丕賮鬲 讴丕睾匕 亘賵丿貙 讴賴 丕夭 賯囟丕 毓丕卮賯 讴鬲丕亘 賴丕蹖蹖 亘賵丿 讴賴 賳丕亘賵丿 賲蹖讴乇丿. 爻賵跇賴 毓丕賱蹖 亘賵丿貙 賵賱蹖 亘賴 丕賳丿丕夭賴 蹖 讴丕賮蹖 诏爻鬲乇卮 丿丕丿賴 賳卮丿賴 亘賵丿. 亘禺卮 夭蹖丕丿蹖 丕夭 讴鬲丕亘 乇賵 禺丕胤乇丕鬲 賵 丕賳丿蹖卮賴 賴丕 賵 賵賯丕蹖毓 睾蹖乇 賲乇鬲亘胤 亘賴 丕蹖賳 爻賵跇賴 诏乇賮鬲賴 亘賵丿.
毓賱丕賵賴 亘乇 丕蹖賳貙 賵賯丕蹖毓蹖 讴賴 乇禺 賲蹖丿賴貙 诏丕賴蹖 禺蹖賱蹖 夭蹖亘丕 賴爻鬲賳. 賲孬賱 賲賳丕爻讴 诏匕丕卮鬲賳 卮丕賴讴丕乇賴丕 賲蹖丕賳 賴乇 亘爻鬲賴 蹖 讴丕睾匕 亘丕胤賱賴 賵 倬蹖趩蹖丿賳 賴乇 讴丿賵賲 丿乇 蹖讴 鬲丕亘賱賵 賳賯丕卮蹖.
蹖丕 氐丨賳賴 蹖 丿蹖丿賳 賲爻蹖丨 賵 賱丕卅賵鬲爻賴 丿乇 丨蹖賳 賲爻鬲蹖貙 賵 賲賯丕蹖爻賴 蹖 乇賵丨蹖丕鬲 賵 丕賳丿蹖卮賴 賴丕卮賵賳.
蹖丕 鬲賱丕卮 賲匕亘賵丨丕賳賴 蹖 乇丕賵蹖 亘乇丕 賳噩丕鬲 丿丕丿賳 讴鬲丕亘 賴丕蹖 賳賮蹖爻 讴鬲丕亘禺丕賳賴 蹖 爻賱胤賳鬲蹖貙 賵 氐丨賳賴 蹖 賳丕亘賵丿 卮丿賳 讴鬲丕亘 賴丕 丿乇 賯胤丕乇 夭蹖乇 亘丕乇丕賳 賵 噩丕乇蹖 卮丿賳 噩賵賴乇 卮爻鬲賴 卮丿賴 蹖 讴鬲丕亘 賴丕 丕夭 丕胤乇丕賮 賯胤丕乇.
噩丿丕蹖 丕夭 丕蹖賳貙 讴鬲丕亘 丿丕爻鬲丕賳 賲賳爻噩賲蹖 賳丿丕卮鬲. 卮乇丨 丕賳丿蹖卮賴 賴丕 賵 禺丕胤乇丕鬲 蹖讴 讴丕乇诏乇 亘丕夭蹖丕賮鬲 讴丕睾匕 亘賵丿貙 讴賴 丕夭 賯囟丕 毓丕卮賯 讴鬲丕亘 賴丕蹖蹖 亘賵丿 讴賴 賳丕亘賵丿 賲蹖讴乇丿. 爻賵跇賴 毓丕賱蹖 亘賵丿貙 賵賱蹖 亘賴 丕賳丿丕夭賴 蹖 讴丕賮蹖 诏爻鬲乇卮 丿丕丿賴 賳卮丿賴 亘賵丿. 亘禺卮 夭蹖丕丿蹖 丕夭 讴鬲丕亘 乇賵 禺丕胤乇丕鬲 賵 丕賳丿蹖卮賴 賴丕 賵 賵賯丕蹖毓 睾蹖乇 賲乇鬲亘胤 亘賴 丕蹖賳 爻賵跇賴 诏乇賮鬲賴 亘賵丿.
Read
January 2, 2023I read this on a train so was able to continue without a break until the book was finished, and since the narrator鈥檚 world is quite compacted, such a reading felt right.
The first paragraph was sublime, with sentences such as this: I am a jug filled with water both magic and plain; I have only to lean over and a stream of beautiful thoughts flows out of me.
Or this one: Because when I read I don鈥檛 really read; I pop a beautiful sentence into my mouth and suck it like a fruit drop, or I sip it like a liqueur until the thought dissolves in me like alcohol, infusing brain and heart and coursing on through the veins to the root of each blood vessel.
After that glorious first section, I read on swiftly, looking for more such treasures, and there were other treasures, even some unexpected ones, though none quite so delicious as those in the first paragraph.听
This is an unusual book, an open critique of all fascist regimes, but done in a wonderfully oblique way; the narrator, a fairly miserable individual at first acquaintance, seems a most unlikely character to pose a threat to the regime, and yet he successfully carries out his own subtle protest against censorship for more than thirty-five years, making daring literary and artistic statements under the very noses of the authorities. In the end, it is not the authorities but progress that catches up with him.
Bohumil Hrabal gives us a different view of Prague, different from any that I have read before; we are far from the Castle or the Charles Bridge; this is the view from the sewer.
Whether through water, earth, air or fire, we are all destined to be be recycled.
The first paragraph was sublime, with sentences such as this: I am a jug filled with water both magic and plain; I have only to lean over and a stream of beautiful thoughts flows out of me.
Or this one: Because when I read I don鈥檛 really read; I pop a beautiful sentence into my mouth and suck it like a fruit drop, or I sip it like a liqueur until the thought dissolves in me like alcohol, infusing brain and heart and coursing on through the veins to the root of each blood vessel.
After that glorious first section, I read on swiftly, looking for more such treasures, and there were other treasures, even some unexpected ones, though none quite so delicious as those in the first paragraph.听
This is an unusual book, an open critique of all fascist regimes, but done in a wonderfully oblique way; the narrator, a fairly miserable individual at first acquaintance, seems a most unlikely character to pose a threat to the regime, and yet he successfully carries out his own subtle protest against censorship for more than thirty-five years, making daring literary and artistic statements under the very noses of the authorities. In the end, it is not the authorities but progress that catches up with him.
Bohumil Hrabal gives us a different view of Prague, different from any that I have read before; we are far from the Castle or the Charles Bridge; this is the view from the sewer.
Whether through water, earth, air or fire, we are all destined to be be recycled.
July 22, 2018
Not until we're totally crushed do we show what we are made of. (96)
This is a book whose length can be quite deceiving. Nonetheless, this novella has the predictable ability of leading the path towards something rather extraordinary: a bibliophile's sanctuary.
This was a difficult book to rate. At first, it was a solid four-star book. But I chose to overlook the few passages that did not captivate me entirely and made me feel somewhat lost at times (yes, the more I think about it, the more I write about it and absorb its content, the more I like it). I tend to blame myself, anyway. Ha艌钮a, the narrator, would understand.
My education has been so unwitting I can't quite tell which of my thoughts come from me and which from my books, but that's how I've stayed attuned to myself and the world around me for the past thirty-five years. (6)
For thirty-five years, Ha艌钮a has been working in a basement, compacting wastepaper and books proscribed by the current regime. Other than the company of some fighting mice and some gypsies, he is mostly alone in his sacred cellar. A place where he became a refined butcher, where he mastered the art of destruction, where he learnt the joy of devastation. However, he cannot destroy everything that arrives to his cellar. So he puts some books in his briefcase and takes them to his house, a place already filled with towers of books that may kill him at the slightest sneeze.
...when I start reading, I'm somewhere completely different, I'm in the text, it's amazing, I have to admit I've been dreaming, dreaming in a land of great beauty, I've been in the very heart of truth. Ten times a day, every day, I wonder at having wandered so far, and then, alienated from myself, a stranger to myself, I go home, walking the streets silently and in deep meditation, passing trams and cars and pedestrians in a cloud of books, the books I found that day and am carrying home in my briefcase. (11)
And that is all I can say about this book filled with symbolism flowing with different rhythms, like the unpredictable behavior of the sea. This sequence of thoughts of an old man that chose, all by himself, how his love story was going to end. Poignant thoughts that left an indelible imprint in me. Evocative lines that echo his past, his benevolent present, the desperate sense of resignation of his future. His childhood, his loved ones, his doubts, his humorous remarks that assist you when despair is too much to bear, his visions, his simple way of life, his celebration to the essence of ideas that prevail over time and defy any living soul, his impressions on a world which absurdity goes beyond imagination.
No, the heavens are not humane, nor is any man with a head on his shoulders. (35)
And his loss. The tragedy of being violently separated from everything that gave him joy. The sum and substance of his existence. After having the pleasure of tasting such elusive elixir, one cannot help but to immerse in profound meditations. Frozen. The contradiction between a motionless body and a restlessly working mind. But Ha艌钮a knew. He always knew. Blinded鈥攎omentarily鈥攂y the sun of things to come, Ha艌钮a, the rescuer of defenseless books, the one with a loud solitude far away from any lonely thought, the one with the pleasure of listening to the everlasting tune of thousands of books, always knew what to do. The blissful quietness of having no regrets.
'For we are like olives: only when we are crushed do we yield what is best in us.' (18)
Hrabal, Ha艌钮a. Anyone of us. Anyone in love with literature, with ideas in the form of a book.
Solitude brings to me these walls made of silence and dreams. And it is just us. This space is for us. The book and me. I hear my voice in my mind, repeating every word, processing every idea, savoring every sound. For most of Hrabal's lines are music, and I listened to it dazzled, bewildered like a child in front of a magic pipe. A melody that ignites imagination and creates an unforgettable sense of belonging. The melody of those books to which we hold onto so dearly.
The melody I will be always listening to, even when surrounded by, sometimes, too silent a solitude.
En una secuencia de pensamientos similar a la de esta obra, termino rememorando libros pasados, escritores que me aliviaron, personajes que me acompa帽aron. L铆neas que, desde una inicial soledad nada ruidosa, me abrieron al mundo. Una soledad que termin贸 poblada con todas las voces de ese mundo. Voces que calman. Voces que perturban. Palabras que no me dejan y que las repito para que nunca me dejen. As铆, saboreando cada t茅rmino, como si fuera el 煤ltimo. Aferr谩ndome a cada sonido, como si fuera m铆o. Deleit谩ndome con la similitud del sentimiento sin tener en cuenta el tiempo.
Tiempo que pasa.
Tiempo que ahoga.
Tiempo que sana, de vez en cuando.
Termino con el libro sobre m铆. Con la mente m谩s inquieta que nunca, embarcada en una oda a esa literatura trascendental que lleg贸 ac谩; desafiante, segura. Deseosa de miradas nuevas. Creadora de suspiros que evocan eternidad.
Mis disculpas a las personas de habla inglesa que a veces se dan una vuelta por este sur olvidado. Pero, despu茅s de leer esta conmovedora novela corta de Hrabal, 驴c贸mo no culminar esta marea de palabras sin sentido, abrazada a mi idioma?
Enamorados perpetuos del lenguaje. Sus palabras. Sus sonidos. Sus significados. Las historias que construyen. Las emociones que transmiten. El contenido sobre la forma. La escritura sobre la tapa. Coleccionistas de libros, de recuerdos, de vidas ajenas. Vidas ajenas, para entender la propia. Entender, en las cantidades que la existencia misma permite.
Todo aquello que provoca sonido y que hace de la soledad, algo menos envolvente.
Dec 6, 15
* Also on .
** No, it wasn't what I expected, but I loved it anyway.
February 16, 2016
How to write about a book that deals with compression when I am reading it thanks to dispersed and ephemeral distinctions?
For if Hrabal has written a magic and allegorical story of the character Hant谩 who dedicates his life to compressing large volumes of discarded books into still voluminous bales of paper, I am reading a story which as if by magic emerges section by section on my screen acquiring in this act an additional allegorical layer.
For Hant谩 realizes that compression does away with differences and when censorship, which is sharp black and white, coalesces matter into colorless grey then thought and text are buried in indifferent bundles.
He finds his stories on paper, on trees pressed into sheets of dried paste, all stories of constricted feelings. These are tales of confined political opinions in a decadent but still powerful totalitarian setting; narratives of repressed human liberties that try to breath through flying paper kites.
And these come to me in a different world. I am dealing with them on a screen on which microcapsules, charged positively for the white or negatively for the black, arrange themselves creating the distinct shapes of letters, of words, sentences and thoughts. And every time I press the button these particles return to their amorphous sea and reemerge in a new combination. Mine is the universe of poles and discrete particles and it is from this stock of specks that the tale of an estranged world and life emerges.
And this is the magic of representation. The vehicle can conjure up its opposite and offer a bewitching text which can move my heart and imagination and make me feel a solitude which, thanks to its beauty, is however not confining and certainly not too loud.
For if Hrabal has written a magic and allegorical story of the character Hant谩 who dedicates his life to compressing large volumes of discarded books into still voluminous bales of paper, I am reading a story which as if by magic emerges section by section on my screen acquiring in this act an additional allegorical layer.
For Hant谩 realizes that compression does away with differences and when censorship, which is sharp black and white, coalesces matter into colorless grey then thought and text are buried in indifferent bundles.
He finds his stories on paper, on trees pressed into sheets of dried paste, all stories of constricted feelings. These are tales of confined political opinions in a decadent but still powerful totalitarian setting; narratives of repressed human liberties that try to breath through flying paper kites.
And these come to me in a different world. I am dealing with them on a screen on which microcapsules, charged positively for the white or negatively for the black, arrange themselves creating the distinct shapes of letters, of words, sentences and thoughts. And every time I press the button these particles return to their amorphous sea and reemerge in a new combination. Mine is the universe of poles and discrete particles and it is from this stock of specks that the tale of an estranged world and life emerges.
And this is the magic of representation. The vehicle can conjure up its opposite and offer a bewitching text which can move my heart and imagination and make me feel a solitude which, thanks to its beauty, is however not confining and certainly not too loud.
September 16, 2017
"... 兀賳丕 丕賱乇噩賱 丕賱賵丨賷丿 賮賷 丕賱毓丕賱賲 丕賱匕賷 賷毓賱賲 兀賳 賮賷 毓賲賯 兀賷 賰賵丞 賲賳 丕賱賰鬲亘 賷賵噩丿 賰鬲丕亘 賲賮鬲賵丨 賱賮丕賵爻鬲 兀賵 丿賵賳 賰丕乇賱賵爻 ... 兀乇賶 乇賵丕賷丞 賴丕賷亘乇賷賵賳 丿賮賷賳丞 賲毓 亘胤丕賯丕鬲 賲賱胤禺丞 亘丕賱丿賲丕亍. 賴賳丕賰 毓賱賶 兀賰賷丕爻 丕賱廿爻賲賳鬲 鬲噩丿 賰鬲丕亘 賴賰匕丕 鬲賰賱賲 夭乇丕丿卮鬲. 兀賳丕 丕賱廿賳爻丕賳 丕賱賵丨賷丿 丕賱匕賷 賷毓乇賮 兀賷丞 賰賵賲丞 賮賷賴丕 睾賵鬲賴 兀賵 卮賷賱乇 兀賵 賴賵賱丿乇賷賳 兀賵 賳賷鬲卮賴. 兀賳丕 賮賳丕賳 賵丕賱噩賲賴賵乇貙 賮賷 丕賱賵賯鬲 匕丕鬲賴"
丕賱毓夭賱丞 賵丕賱賰鬲亘 賲乇鬲亘胤丕賳 毓賱賶 賳丨賵 睾丕賲囟 賵賰賱丕賴賲丕 賷丐丿賷 廿賱賶 丕賱丌禺乇 毓賱賶 丨丿 爻賵丕亍貙 賵賯丿 賷乇噩毓 丕賱爻亘亘 亘兀賳 賰賱賷賴賲丕 賴賵 乇睾亘丞 賮賷 丕賱鬲毓亘賷乇 毓賳 丕賱賳賮爻 賮賷 丕賱丨丿賷孬 賵丕賱鬲賵丕氐賱 賵丕賱丕賯鬲乇丕亘 兀賰孬乇 廿賱賶 噩賵賴乇賳丕貙 賵賮賷 賰賱賷賴賲丕 賳爻鬲胤賷毓 兀賳 賳賰賵賳 匕賵丕鬲賳丕貙 賱兀賳 匕賱賰 亘賰賱 亘爻丕胤丞 賱丕 賷噩毓賱賳丕 賵丨賷丿賷賳 丨鬲賶 賱賵 賰賳丕 賲賳賮乇丿賷賳 賳毓賷卮 賮賷 毓夭賱丞 賲夭丿丨賲丞.
賷乇氐丿 丕賱賰丕鬲亘 賮賷 賲丿賷賳丞 亘乇丕睾 丨賯亘丞 賲賴賲丞 賰丕賳鬲 丕賱賰鬲亘 賮賷賴丕 賲孬丕乇 卮亘賴丞 賵賲賱丕丨賯丞 賲賳 賯亘賱 丕賱賲丐爻爻丞 丕賱爻賷丕爻賷丞 毓亘乇 丨賰丕賷丞 賯氐丞 賱乇噩賱 毓噩賵夭 兀亘賱賴 賷爻鬲賴賱賰 賰賲賷丕鬲 賰亘賷乇丞 賲賳 丕賱亘賷乇丞貙 賰丕賳 賷爻賲賷 賳賮爻賴 丕賱噩夭丕乇 丕賱賲噩賷丿貙 賰丕賳鬲 兀胤賳丕賳 丕賱賰鬲亘 丕賱賳丕丿乇丞 鬲賮賳賶 毓賱賶 賷丿賷賴 鬲丨鬲 丌賱丞 賴賷丿乇賵賱賷賰賷丞貙 賰丕賳鬲 賴匕賴 丕賱賰鬲亘 賯丿 毓賱賲鬲賴 賳卮賵丞 丕賱鬲丿賲賷乇貙 賵丕賱匕賷 賷鬲囟丨 賮賷 賲丕 亘毓丿 兀賳賴 兀賳賯匕 丌賱丕賮 丕賱賰鬲亘 賲賳 兀賳 鬲鬲丨賵賱 廿賱賶 賲噩乇丿 賳賮丕賷丕鬲. 賰丕賳 丕賱賰丕鬲亘 亘丕乇毓丕賸 賮賷 乇爻賲 丨賷丕丞 賴匕丕 丕賱乇噩賱 丕賱毓噩賵夭 丕賱賷賵賲賷丞 賵丕賱匕賷 賰丕賳 賱丕 賷賲賱賰 賲賳 兀賲乇賴 卮賷亍 亘賱睾丞 爻丕禺乇丞 亘毓賷丿丞 毓賳 丕賱噩賲賱 丕賱賲鬲毓孬乇丞貙 賲毓鬲賲丿丕賸 毓賱賶 禺賱賯 卮禺氐賷丞 (丕賱兀丨賲賯 丕賱丨賰賷賲) 丕賱鬲賷 鬲亘丿乇 毓賳賴 賮賷 丕賱賱丨馗丕鬲 丕賱丨乇噩丞 兀賮賰丕乇 賮賷 睾丕賷丞 丕賱毓賲賯. 賵亘丕賱胤亘毓 賴匕丕 賱賷爻 賰賱 卮賷亍 賮賰賲丕 賷賯賵賱 丕賱爻賵賷爻乇賷賵賳: 丕賱卮賷胤丕賳 賷爻賰賳 賮賷 丕賱鬲賮丕氐賷賱.
兀馗賳 亘兀賳 賴匕丕 丕賱賳賵毓 賲賳 丕賱乇賵丕賷丕鬲 賱賷爻鬲 氐丕賱丨丞 賱噩賲賷毓 丕賱兀匕賵丕賯 賮賴賷 鬲爻鬲賴丿賮 賮卅丞 賲丨丿丿丞 賲賳 兀賵賱丕卅賰 丕賱賲賴鬲賲賷賳 亘毓丕賱賲 丕賱賳卮乇 賵丕賱賰鬲亘 賵丕賱乇賯丕亘丞 賵賱丕 睾乇丕亘丞 丨賷賳 氐賳賮鬲賴丕 丕賱噩丕乇丿賷賳 亘兀賳賴丕 囟賲賳 兀賮囟賱 毓卮乇丞 乇賵丕賷丕鬲 鬲丨丿孬鬲 毓賳 丕賱賰鬲亘貙 賵亘乇睾賲 賯賵鬲賴丕 廿賱丕 兀賳賴丕 睾賷乇 賲賲鬲毓丞 賵禺丕賱賷丞 賲賳 毓賳氐乇 丕賱鬲卮賵賷賯 廿賱賶 丨丿 賲丕貙 賮廿匕丕 賰丕賳 賴匕丕 丕賱兀賲乇 賲賳 丕賴鬲賲丕賲丕鬲賰 賮賷 丕賱亘賳丕亍 丕賱爻乇丿賷 賯丿 賱丕 鬲毓噩亘賰 丕賱乇賵丕賷丞 丨鬲賶 賱賵 鬲賲 廿睾乇丕卅賰 賲賳 賯亘賱 丕賱毓賳賵丕賳 賵鬲氐賲賷賲 丕賱睾賱丕賮...
賵鬲亘賯賶 丕賱賲爻兀賱丞 丕賱賴丕賲丞 賮賷 鬲賯丿賷乇賷 亘兀賳 丕賱毓賱丕賯丞 賲毓 丕賱賰鬲丕亘 賴賷 毓賱丕賯丞 丕禺鬲乇丕毓 丕賱賲毓丕賳賷 賵乇爻賲 丌賮丕賯 噩丿賷丿丞 賱兀賳賮爻賳丕 毓賳丿賲丕 賳賯賵賲 亘丕賯鬲乇丕賮 丕賱賯乇丕亍丞.
丕賱毓夭賱丞 賵丕賱賰鬲亘 賲乇鬲亘胤丕賳 毓賱賶 賳丨賵 睾丕賲囟 賵賰賱丕賴賲丕 賷丐丿賷 廿賱賶 丕賱丌禺乇 毓賱賶 丨丿 爻賵丕亍貙 賵賯丿 賷乇噩毓 丕賱爻亘亘 亘兀賳 賰賱賷賴賲丕 賴賵 乇睾亘丞 賮賷 丕賱鬲毓亘賷乇 毓賳 丕賱賳賮爻 賮賷 丕賱丨丿賷孬 賵丕賱鬲賵丕氐賱 賵丕賱丕賯鬲乇丕亘 兀賰孬乇 廿賱賶 噩賵賴乇賳丕貙 賵賮賷 賰賱賷賴賲丕 賳爻鬲胤賷毓 兀賳 賳賰賵賳 匕賵丕鬲賳丕貙 賱兀賳 匕賱賰 亘賰賱 亘爻丕胤丞 賱丕 賷噩毓賱賳丕 賵丨賷丿賷賳 丨鬲賶 賱賵 賰賳丕 賲賳賮乇丿賷賳 賳毓賷卮 賮賷 毓夭賱丞 賲夭丿丨賲丞.
賷乇氐丿 丕賱賰丕鬲亘 賮賷 賲丿賷賳丞 亘乇丕睾 丨賯亘丞 賲賴賲丞 賰丕賳鬲 丕賱賰鬲亘 賮賷賴丕 賲孬丕乇 卮亘賴丞 賵賲賱丕丨賯丞 賲賳 賯亘賱 丕賱賲丐爻爻丞 丕賱爻賷丕爻賷丞 毓亘乇 丨賰丕賷丞 賯氐丞 賱乇噩賱 毓噩賵夭 兀亘賱賴 賷爻鬲賴賱賰 賰賲賷丕鬲 賰亘賷乇丞 賲賳 丕賱亘賷乇丞貙 賰丕賳 賷爻賲賷 賳賮爻賴 丕賱噩夭丕乇 丕賱賲噩賷丿貙 賰丕賳鬲 兀胤賳丕賳 丕賱賰鬲亘 丕賱賳丕丿乇丞 鬲賮賳賶 毓賱賶 賷丿賷賴 鬲丨鬲 丌賱丞 賴賷丿乇賵賱賷賰賷丞貙 賰丕賳鬲 賴匕賴 丕賱賰鬲亘 賯丿 毓賱賲鬲賴 賳卮賵丞 丕賱鬲丿賲賷乇貙 賵丕賱匕賷 賷鬲囟丨 賮賷 賲丕 亘毓丿 兀賳賴 兀賳賯匕 丌賱丕賮 丕賱賰鬲亘 賲賳 兀賳 鬲鬲丨賵賱 廿賱賶 賲噩乇丿 賳賮丕賷丕鬲. 賰丕賳 丕賱賰丕鬲亘 亘丕乇毓丕賸 賮賷 乇爻賲 丨賷丕丞 賴匕丕 丕賱乇噩賱 丕賱毓噩賵夭 丕賱賷賵賲賷丞 賵丕賱匕賷 賰丕賳 賱丕 賷賲賱賰 賲賳 兀賲乇賴 卮賷亍 亘賱睾丞 爻丕禺乇丞 亘毓賷丿丞 毓賳 丕賱噩賲賱 丕賱賲鬲毓孬乇丞貙 賲毓鬲賲丿丕賸 毓賱賶 禺賱賯 卮禺氐賷丞 (丕賱兀丨賲賯 丕賱丨賰賷賲) 丕賱鬲賷 鬲亘丿乇 毓賳賴 賮賷 丕賱賱丨馗丕鬲 丕賱丨乇噩丞 兀賮賰丕乇 賮賷 睾丕賷丞 丕賱毓賲賯. 賵亘丕賱胤亘毓 賴匕丕 賱賷爻 賰賱 卮賷亍 賮賰賲丕 賷賯賵賱 丕賱爻賵賷爻乇賷賵賳: 丕賱卮賷胤丕賳 賷爻賰賳 賮賷 丕賱鬲賮丕氐賷賱.
兀馗賳 亘兀賳 賴匕丕 丕賱賳賵毓 賲賳 丕賱乇賵丕賷丕鬲 賱賷爻鬲 氐丕賱丨丞 賱噩賲賷毓 丕賱兀匕賵丕賯 賮賴賷 鬲爻鬲賴丿賮 賮卅丞 賲丨丿丿丞 賲賳 兀賵賱丕卅賰 丕賱賲賴鬲賲賷賳 亘毓丕賱賲 丕賱賳卮乇 賵丕賱賰鬲亘 賵丕賱乇賯丕亘丞 賵賱丕 睾乇丕亘丞 丨賷賳 氐賳賮鬲賴丕 丕賱噩丕乇丿賷賳 亘兀賳賴丕 囟賲賳 兀賮囟賱 毓卮乇丞 乇賵丕賷丕鬲 鬲丨丿孬鬲 毓賳 丕賱賰鬲亘貙 賵亘乇睾賲 賯賵鬲賴丕 廿賱丕 兀賳賴丕 睾賷乇 賲賲鬲毓丞 賵禺丕賱賷丞 賲賳 毓賳氐乇 丕賱鬲卮賵賷賯 廿賱賶 丨丿 賲丕貙 賮廿匕丕 賰丕賳 賴匕丕 丕賱兀賲乇 賲賳 丕賴鬲賲丕賲丕鬲賰 賮賷 丕賱亘賳丕亍 丕賱爻乇丿賷 賯丿 賱丕 鬲毓噩亘賰 丕賱乇賵丕賷丞 丨鬲賶 賱賵 鬲賲 廿睾乇丕卅賰 賲賳 賯亘賱 丕賱毓賳賵丕賳 賵鬲氐賲賷賲 丕賱睾賱丕賮...
賵鬲亘賯賶 丕賱賲爻兀賱丞 丕賱賴丕賲丞 賮賷 鬲賯丿賷乇賷 亘兀賳 丕賱毓賱丕賯丞 賲毓 丕賱賰鬲丕亘 賴賷 毓賱丕賯丞 丕禺鬲乇丕毓 丕賱賲毓丕賳賷 賵乇爻賲 丌賮丕賯 噩丿賷丿丞 賱兀賳賮爻賳丕 毓賳丿賲丕 賳賯賵賲 亘丕賯鬲乇丕賮 丕賱賯乇丕亍丞.
January 15, 2019
Socialism Remaindered
Was Hrabal the Studs Terkel of Moravia? He and Terkel were more or less contemporaries. From similarly humble backgrounds, they both got law degrees. Both were blacklisted and censored for questionable patriotism. Both were famed raconteurs. Most importantly, both concerned themselves mainly with working people and their culture.
The difference of course is that Terkel, in his Working in particular, asks people about how their jobs gave positive meaning to their lives. Hrabal inquires more about how the roles people play are always ambiguously productive and destructive. For him, there is something of the symbolic and cosmic rather than the personal in each character. Perhaps this is the key to the difference in American and European moral sensibilities.
Too Loud a Solitude starts like one of Terkel's case studies, a first person account of a man dedicated for thirty-five to the waste paper compaction business. Well not quite. None of Terkel's subjects ever said anything like "If a book has anything to say, it burns with a quiet laugh, because any book worth its salt points up and out of itself." This working stiff knows something about iconography and semiotics.
And not just about the books. Hrabal's characters themselves are like icons pointing beyond their immediate experiences: "When my eye lands on a real book and looks past the printed word, what it sees is disembodied thoughts flying through the air, gliding on air, living off air, returning to air, because in the end everything is air, just as the host is and is not the blood of Christ." No ordinary sanitary engineer then in his poetic vision and singular appreciation of the doctrine of transubstatiation.
The books in question, the primary raw material involved in the protagonist's production/destruction, are not allowed to become idols that inhibit their own transcendence. They possess a dialectical character for Hrabal as they bring both "ineffable joy and even greater woe." The protagonist, Hant'a, reinforces this realism; he is gnostic as well as Hegelian: "The heavens are not humane," he says, and "books have shown me the joy of devastation." Books are the centre of his existence, but they are nonetheless tainted and therefore not to be worshipped as divine.
I manage a small academic library, so I recognise the syndrome Hant'a demonstrates. He is constantly distracted from his duty to crush the books by the irresistible temptation to read the damn things. Not an efficient trait in either a librarian or a book compactor. The equivalent of a doctor's emotional involvement with her patient. Frequently dangerous. Always frowned upon. His addiction is controllable to the extent that he does fulfill his duties, if on occasion only barely.
But reading of the condemned books is only the entry level drug for Hant'a. Hard core addiction is bringing the space-eating things home. They quickly take over your life. And taking up all available house-space is only the half of it. The threat of death by book-avalanche is constant. As it is, Hant'a had already shrunk by a good four inches under the compressive weight of the books in his bedroom. The books are not merely a monkey on his back, they constitute the world he inhabits and that inhabits him.
Aside from a distinct preference for Schiller and Goethe, Hant'a's workaday world is not unlike many of Terkel's subjects. He's over-qualified for the job of pressing first the green button and then the red button; with a nag for a boss; and he drinks too much beer at lunch, and for that matter even on the job. By no standard can he be considered passionate or even interested in his job except for the unauthorised side-benefits. The job itself is irrelevant to Hant'a's identity, just as is his participation in a socialist state.
Hant鈥檃鈥檚 fear of technological redundancy is, however, as real as that of one of Terkel's subjects in capitalist America. Ever since a gigantic new machine was installed in a neighbouring town, he knows his days in book-compacting are numbered. In fact he looks forward to retirement. But he desperately wants to bring his now surplus compactor home with him since he's not sure he can do without the daily routine of waste paper disposal. He's not worried about income in retirement, however, and certainly not the loss of social routine. The problem is where to source a reliable flow of good books!
Not Terkel then.
Postscript: just to demonstrate that truth is stranger than fiction, this little news piece from Turkey showed up in my 鈥榝eed鈥�:
Was Hrabal the Studs Terkel of Moravia? He and Terkel were more or less contemporaries. From similarly humble backgrounds, they both got law degrees. Both were blacklisted and censored for questionable patriotism. Both were famed raconteurs. Most importantly, both concerned themselves mainly with working people and their culture.
The difference of course is that Terkel, in his Working in particular, asks people about how their jobs gave positive meaning to their lives. Hrabal inquires more about how the roles people play are always ambiguously productive and destructive. For him, there is something of the symbolic and cosmic rather than the personal in each character. Perhaps this is the key to the difference in American and European moral sensibilities.
Too Loud a Solitude starts like one of Terkel's case studies, a first person account of a man dedicated for thirty-five to the waste paper compaction business. Well not quite. None of Terkel's subjects ever said anything like "If a book has anything to say, it burns with a quiet laugh, because any book worth its salt points up and out of itself." This working stiff knows something about iconography and semiotics.
And not just about the books. Hrabal's characters themselves are like icons pointing beyond their immediate experiences: "When my eye lands on a real book and looks past the printed word, what it sees is disembodied thoughts flying through the air, gliding on air, living off air, returning to air, because in the end everything is air, just as the host is and is not the blood of Christ." No ordinary sanitary engineer then in his poetic vision and singular appreciation of the doctrine of transubstatiation.
The books in question, the primary raw material involved in the protagonist's production/destruction, are not allowed to become idols that inhibit their own transcendence. They possess a dialectical character for Hrabal as they bring both "ineffable joy and even greater woe." The protagonist, Hant'a, reinforces this realism; he is gnostic as well as Hegelian: "The heavens are not humane," he says, and "books have shown me the joy of devastation." Books are the centre of his existence, but they are nonetheless tainted and therefore not to be worshipped as divine.
I manage a small academic library, so I recognise the syndrome Hant'a demonstrates. He is constantly distracted from his duty to crush the books by the irresistible temptation to read the damn things. Not an efficient trait in either a librarian or a book compactor. The equivalent of a doctor's emotional involvement with her patient. Frequently dangerous. Always frowned upon. His addiction is controllable to the extent that he does fulfill his duties, if on occasion only barely.
But reading of the condemned books is only the entry level drug for Hant'a. Hard core addiction is bringing the space-eating things home. They quickly take over your life. And taking up all available house-space is only the half of it. The threat of death by book-avalanche is constant. As it is, Hant'a had already shrunk by a good four inches under the compressive weight of the books in his bedroom. The books are not merely a monkey on his back, they constitute the world he inhabits and that inhabits him.
Aside from a distinct preference for Schiller and Goethe, Hant'a's workaday world is not unlike many of Terkel's subjects. He's over-qualified for the job of pressing first the green button and then the red button; with a nag for a boss; and he drinks too much beer at lunch, and for that matter even on the job. By no standard can he be considered passionate or even interested in his job except for the unauthorised side-benefits. The job itself is irrelevant to Hant'a's identity, just as is his participation in a socialist state.
Hant鈥檃鈥檚 fear of technological redundancy is, however, as real as that of one of Terkel's subjects in capitalist America. Ever since a gigantic new machine was installed in a neighbouring town, he knows his days in book-compacting are numbered. In fact he looks forward to retirement. But he desperately wants to bring his now surplus compactor home with him since he's not sure he can do without the daily routine of waste paper disposal. He's not worried about income in retirement, however, and certainly not the loss of social routine. The problem is where to source a reliable flow of good books!
Not Terkel then.
Postscript: just to demonstrate that truth is stranger than fiction, this little news piece from Turkey showed up in my 鈥榝eed鈥�:
June 11, 2017
倬卮鬲 賲蹖夭 賲胤丕賱毓賴 賳卮爻鬲賴 丕賲 賵 爻蹖 賵 倬賳噩鈥� 爻丕賱 丕賳丿賵賴 乇丕 賲蹖禺賵丕賳賲 .. 賳丕诏賴丕賳 丕丨爻丕爻 賲蹖讴賳賲 丿賵鈥屫池� 禺賵賳 丕賱賵丿 亘夭乇诏 蹖賯賴 倬蹖乇賴賳賲鈥� 乇丕 賲蹖趩爻亘丿 賵 賲乇丕 亘賴 丿丕禺賱 讴鬲丕亘 賲蹖讴卮丕賳丿 .. 賲賯丕賵賲鬲 賲蹖讴賳賲 ..乇丕爻鬲卮 乇丕 亘禺賵丕賴蹖丿鈥� 賲賳 丕夭 丕蹖賳賴賲賴 丕賳丿賵賴 賲蹖鬲乇爻賲 .. 丕賲丕 丕賳诏丕乇 賲賯丕賲鬲 亘蹖賮丕蹖丿賴 丕爻鬲 .. 讴卮蹖丿賴 賲蹖卮賵賲 亘賴 爻賲鬲 蹖讴 鬲賳賴丕蹖蹖 倬乇賴蹖丕賴賵 ..禺賵丿賲 乇丕 賲蹖亘蹖賳賲鈥� 讴賴 丿乇 鬲丕乇蹖讴蹖 賳蹖賲賴 卮亘 倬乇丕诏 亘賴 丿賳亘丕賱 丿禺鬲乇讴鈥� 丿丕賲賳 賮蹖乇賵夭賴鈥屫й� 賲蹖诏乇丿賲 .. 禺賵丿賲 乇丕 賲蹖亘蹖賳賲鈥� 讴賴鈥� 丕夭 爻丕蹖賴 禺賵丿賲 ..丕夭 賲賵卮賴丕蹖 禺丕讴爻鬲乇蹖 ..丕夭 賲诏爻賴丕蹖 爻亘夭 ..賵鈥屫ж� 丿爻鬲鈥� 诏卮鬲丕倬賵 賲蹖诏乇蹖夭賲 ..禺賵丿賲 乇丕 丕爻蹖乇 丿乇 爻乇賳賵卮鬲 禺賵賳蹖賳 賲诏爻賴丕蹖 爻亘夭 賲蹖亘蹖鬲賲 賵 丿乇 爻乇賳賵卮鬲 亘丕丿亘丕丿讴 讴丕睾匕蹖 賲毓賱賯 亘蹖賳 丕亘乇賴丕 ..鈥屬� 丿乇 爻乇賳賵卮鬲 賲乇丿蹖 讴賴 夭蹖乇 禺乇賵丕乇賴丕 讴鬲丕亘 噩丕賳 賲蹖丿賴丿 .. 鬲賳賴丕蹖蹖 倬乇賴蹖丕賴賵 賲乇丕 夭賵丿鬲乇 倬蹖卮 丕夭 倬丕蹖丕賳 讴鬲丕亘 丕夭 倬丕 丿乇 賲蹖丕賵乇丿 .. 丨丕賱丕 禺爻鬲賴 丕賲 .. 賴賲蹖賳 賵 亘爻 ...
August 30, 2014
"Each of us had a decent home library of books we'd happened to rescue, and each of us read those books in the blissful hope of making a change in his life."
What if ideas no longer had permanence? What happens when beautiful, psychedelic sentences are replaced with harebrained dialogue? What would you do, when there you are, stuck in no-man's land, without an electronic device or internet connection, and there are no physical books to keep you stimulated? What happens when you can't escape your world to suddenly find yourself in a distant land, surrounded by emotional truth and beauty and culture?
After reading this beloved Czech classic, I sat in my home library for hours, just to feel the magic of my books, to embrace the warmth they exude, for books mean so much more than words on a page. Maybe this is why it was difficult to write a review for this book. Still, I knew I had to write one; if only as a homage to the printed word. And yet I feel guilty, as though I owe my narrator, Hanta, an apology for reading this on my Kindle (of all the books to read on the electronic device, I chose this one).
Here, melancholy brews and solitude reigns. But it is the kind of solitude you feel from someplace deep and unknown, the unexplainable comfort you have when you pick up a good book and don't want to be distracted by anything that will take you from within the text:
Hanta is a peculiar narrator; a hermit and lover of rare books and intellectual meanderings. He is a solitude who is not lonely. I'm simply alone, living in my heavily populated solitude, a harum-scorum of infinity and eternity.
It wasn't hard to relate to the idiosyncratic Hanta, this nonconformist who spent thirty-five years (this he will tell you repeatedly) compacting wastepaper. And by wastepaper, I do mean "Paul Gauguin's Bonjour M. Gauguin". Who cares if his boss despised him, and his peers made fun of him? Hanta surely didn't, because he lived beautifully:
Bohumil Hrabal was a poet and a member of an underground writing group. When troops from the Warsaw Pact invaded Czechoslovakia, he was banned from publishing. No wonder why his prose is such beautiful melancholy, and his narrator a man skeptical of the world and protective of the printed word. Hrabal writes with political subtleties and symbolism that makes you want to applaud a work which stands for so much more than Hanta. This stream of consciousness narrative is one I don't usually love, and yet it fits this narrative. This book isn't for everyone, I don't think, but it is one that you savor for all of its delicious delicacies and thematic undertones that whisper: protect the printed word, protect your intellectual freedom.
Perhaps Bohumil Hrabal also knew the sound of loud solitude:
What if ideas no longer had permanence? What happens when beautiful, psychedelic sentences are replaced with harebrained dialogue? What would you do, when there you are, stuck in no-man's land, without an electronic device or internet connection, and there are no physical books to keep you stimulated? What happens when you can't escape your world to suddenly find yourself in a distant land, surrounded by emotional truth and beauty and culture?
When I start reading I'm somewhere completely different, I'm in the text, it's amazing. I have to admit I've been dreaming, dreaming in a land of great beauty, I've been in the very heart of truth.
After reading this beloved Czech classic, I sat in my home library for hours, just to feel the magic of my books, to embrace the warmth they exude, for books mean so much more than words on a page. Maybe this is why it was difficult to write a review for this book. Still, I knew I had to write one; if only as a homage to the printed word. And yet I feel guilty, as though I owe my narrator, Hanta, an apology for reading this on my Kindle (of all the books to read on the electronic device, I chose this one).
When my eye lands on a real book and looks past the printed word, what it sees is disembodied thoughts flying through air, gliding on air, living off air, returning to air, because in the end everything is air.
Here, melancholy brews and solitude reigns. But it is the kind of solitude you feel from someplace deep and unknown, the unexplainable comfort you have when you pick up a good book and don't want to be distracted by anything that will take you from within the text:
Because when I read, I don't really read; I pop a beautiful sentence into my mouth and suck it like a fruit drop, or I sip it like a liquer until the thought dissolves in me like alcohol.
Hanta is a peculiar narrator; a hermit and lover of rare books and intellectual meanderings. He is a solitude who is not lonely. I'm simply alone, living in my heavily populated solitude, a harum-scorum of infinity and eternity.
It wasn't hard to relate to the idiosyncratic Hanta, this nonconformist who spent thirty-five years (this he will tell you repeatedly) compacting wastepaper. And by wastepaper, I do mean "Paul Gauguin's Bonjour M. Gauguin". Who cares if his boss despised him, and his peers made fun of him? Hanta surely didn't, because he lived beautifully:
My life fits together beautifully: at work I have books--and bottles and inkwells and staplers--raining down on me through the opening in the cellar ceiling, and at home I have books above me constantly threatening to fall and kill or at least maim me.
Bohumil Hrabal was a poet and a member of an underground writing group. When troops from the Warsaw Pact invaded Czechoslovakia, he was banned from publishing. No wonder why his prose is such beautiful melancholy, and his narrator a man skeptical of the world and protective of the printed word. Hrabal writes with political subtleties and symbolism that makes you want to applaud a work which stands for so much more than Hanta. This stream of consciousness narrative is one I don't usually love, and yet it fits this narrative. This book isn't for everyone, I don't think, but it is one that you savor for all of its delicious delicacies and thematic undertones that whisper: protect the printed word, protect your intellectual freedom.
Perhaps Bohumil Hrabal also knew the sound of loud solitude:
Suddenly one day I felt beautiful and holy for having had the courage to hold on to my sanity after all I'd seen and been through, body and soul, in too loud a solitude.
March 28, 2020
乇賲丕賳 "鬲賳賴丕蹖蹖 倬乇 賴蹖丕賴賵" 蹖讴 乇賲丕賳 丕诏夭蹖爻鬲丕賳爻蹖丕賱蹖爻鬲蹖 丕爻鬲. 蹖讴 乇賲丕賳 丕诏夭蹖爻鬲丕賳爻蹖丕賱蹖爻鬲蹖 禺賵亘. 丿乇賵丕賯毓 亘丕 賲毓丕蹖蹖乇 乇賲丕賳 賴丕蹖 丕诏夭蹖爻鬲丕賳爻蹖丕賱蹖爻鬲蹖 丕孬乇蹖 毓丕賱蹖 亘賵丿.
#鬲賳賴丕蹖蹖 讴賴 丿乇 乇賲丕賳 賴丕蹖 丕诏夭蹖爻鬲丕賳爻蹖丕賱蹖爻鬲蹖 毓賳氐乇蹖 賲賴賲 丕爻鬲 丿乇 丕蹖賳 乇賲丕賳 賴賲 丨囟賵乇蹖 亘賴 卮丿鬲 倬乇 乇賳诏 丿丕乇丿.
爻賴 賲丕賴 賯亘賱 丕夭 禺賵丕賳丿賳 丕蹖賳 乇賲丕賳貙 乇賲丕賳 "" 丕孬乇 賳賵蹖爻賳丿賴 亘夭乇诏 跇丕倬賳蹖 #讴賵亘賵_丌亘賴 乇丕 禺賵丕賳丿賲 賵 丕賱丌賳 丕丨爻丕爻 賲蹖讴賳賲 丕蹖賳 丿賵 乇賲丕賳 亘爻蹖丕乇 亘賴 賴賲 卮亘蹖賴 賴爻鬲賳丿. 丿乇 乇賲丕賳 賴丕蹖 丕诏夭蹖爻鬲丕賳爻蹖丕賱蹖爻鬲蹖 賳賵蹖爻賳丿賴 卮賲丕 乇丕 賵丕丿丕乇 賲蹖讴賳丿 丕賳爻丕賳 乇丕 丿乇 鬲賳賴丕蹖蹖 賵 噩丿丕 丕夭 賲賮賴賵賲 丕噩鬲賲丕毓蹖 丕卮 賲賵乇丿 亘乇乇爻蹖 賯乇丕乇 丿賴蹖丿. 賵 丕蹖賳 鬲賳賴丕蹖蹖 诏丕賴 賴乇丕爻賳丕讴 賲蹖卮賵丿 讴賴 丿乇 丕蹖賳 丕孬乇 賴乇丕爻 讴賲乇賳诏 賵 丿乇 讴丕乇 丌亘賴 倬乇乇賳诏 亘賵丿.
丕賵賱蹖賳 賯丿賲 丿乇 乇爻蹖丿賳 亘賴 丕蹖賳 鬲賳賴丕蹖蹖 丕诏夭蹖爻鬲丕賳爻蹖丕賱 亘乇蹖丿賳 丕夭 乇蹖卮賴鈥屬囏й� 禺丕賳賵丕丿诏蹖 丕爻鬲 賵 賴賲蹖賳 丕爻鬲 讴賴 賲蹖鈥屫ㄛ屬嗃屬� 丿乇 丕蹖賳 乇賲丕賳 #賴丕賳鬲丕 亘丕 丌賳 鬲賮氐蹖賱 丕夭 賲乇诏 賲丕丿乇卮 丨乇賮 賲蹖鈥屫操嗀� 賵 賲丕 乇丕 蹖丕丿 卮禺氐蹖鬲 乇賲丕賳 "" 丕孬乇 丌賱亘乇 讴丕賲賵 賲蹖鈥屫з嗀ж藏�. 丿乇 乇賲丕賳 讴賵亘賵 丌亘賴 賴賲 丌賳 卮禺氐 丕夭 夭賳丿诏蹖 禺丕賳賵丕丿诏蹖 丕卮 亘乇蹖丿賴 賵 讴賲丕賱 丕蹖賳 丕賳賯胤丕毓 亘丕 丕賳鬲卮丕乇 丌賳 丕毓賱丕賲蹖賴 賲亘賳蹖 亘乇 賲賮賯賵丿 卮丿賳 丕蹖賳 丌丿賲 讴賴 亘賴 賴賲爻乇卮 丕噩丕夭賴亍 胤賱丕賯 賲蹖鈥屫囏� 丕鬲賮丕賯 賲蹖鈥屫з佖�.
賮蹖賱賲蹖 賴賲 丕夭 乇賵蹖 丕蹖賳 乇賲丕賳 禺賵丿 趩讴 賴丕 爻丕禺鬲賴 丕賳丿 讴賴 亘賳丿賴 賳蹖賲 賳诏丕賴蹖 亘賴卮 丕賳丿丕禺鬲賲 賵 诏賵蹖丕 亘乇毓讴爻 賮蹖賱賲蹖 讴賴 跇丕倬賳蹖 賴丕 丕夭 乇賵蹖 丕孬乇 丌亘賴 爻丕禺鬲賴 丕賳丿 賵 亘賴 卮丿鬲 亘賴 乇賲丕賳 賵賮丕丿丕乇 丕爻鬲貙 丕蹖賳噩丕 丕氐賱丕 賵賮丕丿丕乇蹖 亘賴 賲鬲賳 丕丿亘蹖 乇丕 乇毓丕蹖鬲 賳讴乇丿賴 丕賳丿 賵 丌賳 鬲賱禺蹖 賵 诏夭賳丿诏蹖 乇賲丕賳 乇丕 賳丿丕乇丿.
賮讴乇 賲蹖讴賳賲 賲胤乇丨 讴乇丿賳 丕蹖賳 丕孬乇 亘賴 毓賳賵丕賳 蹖讴 丕孬乇 囟丿讴賲賵賳蹖爻鬲蹖 (讴賴 丕賱亘鬲賴 賴爻鬲) 賮乇賵讴丕爻鬲賳 丕夭 卮丕賳 賮賱爻賮蹖 丌賳 丕爻鬲. 賴賲丕賳 胤賵乇 讴賴 丕诏乇 乇賲丕賳 "夭賳 丿乇 乇蹖诏 乇賵丕賳" 乇丕 蹖讴 丕孬乇 囟丿 爻乇賲丕蹖賴 丿丕乇蹖 亘丿丕賳蹖賲 (亘賴 丕毓鬲亘丕乇 丨囟賵乇 丌賳 卮乇讴鬲 丕爻鬲孬賲丕乇 讴賳賳丿賴 丌丿賲賴丕) 丕夭 丕乇夭卮 丌賳 讴丕爻鬲賴鈥屫й屬�.
#鬲賳賴丕蹖蹖 讴賴 丿乇 乇賲丕賳 賴丕蹖 丕诏夭蹖爻鬲丕賳爻蹖丕賱蹖爻鬲蹖 毓賳氐乇蹖 賲賴賲 丕爻鬲 丿乇 丕蹖賳 乇賲丕賳 賴賲 丨囟賵乇蹖 亘賴 卮丿鬲 倬乇 乇賳诏 丿丕乇丿.
爻賴 賲丕賴 賯亘賱 丕夭 禺賵丕賳丿賳 丕蹖賳 乇賲丕賳貙 乇賲丕賳 "" 丕孬乇 賳賵蹖爻賳丿賴 亘夭乇诏 跇丕倬賳蹖 #讴賵亘賵_丌亘賴 乇丕 禺賵丕賳丿賲 賵 丕賱丌賳 丕丨爻丕爻 賲蹖讴賳賲 丕蹖賳 丿賵 乇賲丕賳 亘爻蹖丕乇 亘賴 賴賲 卮亘蹖賴 賴爻鬲賳丿. 丿乇 乇賲丕賳 賴丕蹖 丕诏夭蹖爻鬲丕賳爻蹖丕賱蹖爻鬲蹖 賳賵蹖爻賳丿賴 卮賲丕 乇丕 賵丕丿丕乇 賲蹖讴賳丿 丕賳爻丕賳 乇丕 丿乇 鬲賳賴丕蹖蹖 賵 噩丿丕 丕夭 賲賮賴賵賲 丕噩鬲賲丕毓蹖 丕卮 賲賵乇丿 亘乇乇爻蹖 賯乇丕乇 丿賴蹖丿. 賵 丕蹖賳 鬲賳賴丕蹖蹖 诏丕賴 賴乇丕爻賳丕讴 賲蹖卮賵丿 讴賴 丿乇 丕蹖賳 丕孬乇 賴乇丕爻 讴賲乇賳诏 賵 丿乇 讴丕乇 丌亘賴 倬乇乇賳诏 亘賵丿.
丕賵賱蹖賳 賯丿賲 丿乇 乇爻蹖丿賳 亘賴 丕蹖賳 鬲賳賴丕蹖蹖 丕诏夭蹖爻鬲丕賳爻蹖丕賱 亘乇蹖丿賳 丕夭 乇蹖卮賴鈥屬囏й� 禺丕賳賵丕丿诏蹖 丕爻鬲 賵 賴賲蹖賳 丕爻鬲 讴賴 賲蹖鈥屫ㄛ屬嗃屬� 丿乇 丕蹖賳 乇賲丕賳 #賴丕賳鬲丕 亘丕 丌賳 鬲賮氐蹖賱 丕夭 賲乇诏 賲丕丿乇卮 丨乇賮 賲蹖鈥屫操嗀� 賵 賲丕 乇丕 蹖丕丿 卮禺氐蹖鬲 乇賲丕賳 "" 丕孬乇 丌賱亘乇 讴丕賲賵 賲蹖鈥屫з嗀ж藏�. 丿乇 乇賲丕賳 讴賵亘賵 丌亘賴 賴賲 丌賳 卮禺氐 丕夭 夭賳丿诏蹖 禺丕賳賵丕丿诏蹖 丕卮 亘乇蹖丿賴 賵 讴賲丕賱 丕蹖賳 丕賳賯胤丕毓 亘丕 丕賳鬲卮丕乇 丌賳 丕毓賱丕賲蹖賴 賲亘賳蹖 亘乇 賲賮賯賵丿 卮丿賳 丕蹖賳 丌丿賲 讴賴 亘賴 賴賲爻乇卮 丕噩丕夭賴亍 胤賱丕賯 賲蹖鈥屫囏� 丕鬲賮丕賯 賲蹖鈥屫з佖�.
賮蹖賱賲蹖 賴賲 丕夭 乇賵蹖 丕蹖賳 乇賲丕賳 禺賵丿 趩讴 賴丕 爻丕禺鬲賴 丕賳丿 讴賴 亘賳丿賴 賳蹖賲 賳诏丕賴蹖 亘賴卮 丕賳丿丕禺鬲賲 賵 诏賵蹖丕 亘乇毓讴爻 賮蹖賱賲蹖 讴賴 跇丕倬賳蹖 賴丕 丕夭 乇賵蹖 丕孬乇 丌亘賴 爻丕禺鬲賴 丕賳丿 賵 亘賴 卮丿鬲 亘賴 乇賲丕賳 賵賮丕丿丕乇 丕爻鬲貙 丕蹖賳噩丕 丕氐賱丕 賵賮丕丿丕乇蹖 亘賴 賲鬲賳 丕丿亘蹖 乇丕 乇毓丕蹖鬲 賳讴乇丿賴 丕賳丿 賵 丌賳 鬲賱禺蹖 賵 诏夭賳丿诏蹖 乇賲丕賳 乇丕 賳丿丕乇丿.
賮讴乇 賲蹖讴賳賲 賲胤乇丨 讴乇丿賳 丕蹖賳 丕孬乇 亘賴 毓賳賵丕賳 蹖讴 丕孬乇 囟丿讴賲賵賳蹖爻鬲蹖 (讴賴 丕賱亘鬲賴 賴爻鬲) 賮乇賵讴丕爻鬲賳 丕夭 卮丕賳 賮賱爻賮蹖 丌賳 丕爻鬲. 賴賲丕賳 胤賵乇 讴賴 丕诏乇 乇賲丕賳 "夭賳 丿乇 乇蹖诏 乇賵丕賳" 乇丕 蹖讴 丕孬乇 囟丿 爻乇賲丕蹖賴 丿丕乇蹖 亘丿丕賳蹖賲 (亘賴 丕毓鬲亘丕乇 丨囟賵乇 丌賳 卮乇讴鬲 丕爻鬲孬賲丕乇 讴賳賳丿賴 丌丿賲賴丕) 丕夭 丕乇夭卮 丌賳 讴丕爻鬲賴鈥屫й屬�.
August 2, 2022
乇賵丕賷丞 賯氐賷乇丞 毓賳 丕賱丕賳爻丕賳 賮賷 賲賵丕噩賴丞 丕賱丨乇亘 賵丕賱爻賱胤丞 賵丕賱賯賲毓
丨賷丕丞 丕賱毓噩賵夭 賴丕賳鬲丕 賵毓賲賱賴 賱兀賰孬乇 賲賳 孬賱丕孬丞 毓賯賵丿 賮賷 爻丨賯 丕賱賵乇賯
丕賱毓賷卮 賮賷 毓夭賱丞 賵氐賲鬲 亘賷賳 賳氐賵氐 丕賱賰鬲亘 賵兀賮賰丕乇賴丕 賵賲丐賱賮賷賴丕
賵賲丨丕賵賱丕鬲賴 丕賱亘丕卅爻丞 賱廿賳賯丕匕 丕賱賰鬲亘 賮賷 賵丕賯毓 賷賮乇囟 鬲賯賷賷丿 賵丨馗乇 丕賱賮賰乇
氐賵乇丞 賯丕鬲賲丞 賱賮鬲乇丞 賮賷 亘乇丕噩 丕賮鬲賯丿鬲 賲賱丕賲丨 丕賱噩賲丕賱 賵丕賱丕賳爻丕賳賷丞
丨賷丕丞 丕賱毓噩賵夭 賴丕賳鬲丕 賵毓賲賱賴 賱兀賰孬乇 賲賳 孬賱丕孬丞 毓賯賵丿 賮賷 爻丨賯 丕賱賵乇賯
丕賱毓賷卮 賮賷 毓夭賱丞 賵氐賲鬲 亘賷賳 賳氐賵氐 丕賱賰鬲亘 賵兀賮賰丕乇賴丕 賵賲丐賱賮賷賴丕
賵賲丨丕賵賱丕鬲賴 丕賱亘丕卅爻丞 賱廿賳賯丕匕 丕賱賰鬲亘 賮賷 賵丕賯毓 賷賮乇囟 鬲賯賷賷丿 賵丨馗乇 丕賱賮賰乇
氐賵乇丞 賯丕鬲賲丞 賱賮鬲乇丞 賮賷 亘乇丕噩 丕賮鬲賯丿鬲 賲賱丕賲丨 丕賱噩賲丕賱 賵丕賱丕賳爻丕賳賷丞
April 29, 2012
I can be by myself because I'm never lonely, I'm simply alone, living in my heavily populated solitude, a harum-scarum of infinity and eternity, and Infinity and Eternity seem to take a liking to the likes of me."
Ha貌t谩 of Too Loud a Solitude would be friends with me if he were on goodreads. He would so! So what if I haven't read Hegel or Kant? So what if I could only quote from Terry Pratchett (a wise man in his own write)? The books are his whole life and he talks about them as if nothing would stand in his way if there were a two-way mirror between himself and the innermost face behind the face of the books. They would have forever to get to know each other. I envy Ha貌t谩 the way the words live on his tongue as if they could be uttered in the moment of need to bring light. I wonder if I did read any philosophers would they be of any comfort to me too. I tell myself stories as if I could step out of reality and into the one I'm creating inside.
If Ha貌t谩 were on goodreads I would look at the computer screen (okay, I've already admitted that I use an ipod touch screen for 98.9% of my goodreading so there's no point in lying here now) and it would be like there was a window to look through between us. Books are real! Books matter and books are everything if you're one of us. It hurts Ha貌t谩 to compact the scarecrow wanting its brain of ink sentences, and the lion with its if I only had courage you can't judge a book by its cover and the tin man with its heart made of paper glued to binding that holds everything together with an indestructible spine. Can they become something else, something better, and have meaning when they are killed?
Ha貌t谩 might be one of those drunk book reviewers on goodreads, though. He has to have beer to read. I wondered if he drank so much to be like me. I don't think I would ever need to do that to write a review either. I would just throw up in the toilet when I remembered what I admitted to the morning after. Ha貌t谩's grandfathers and their fathers saw faeries at their elbows bar side, and Ha貌t谩 Jesus and Lao-tze as the ebb and flow in the pool he's face down in. The sword of Damascus hangs over his head every night. He sleeps beneath tons of books. Their weight could be that of your baby reminding you that you have to get up in the morning, or the ghost cat or old person who steals your vital energy through your breath. Six feet under and as high as cloud nine. Names theirs and do you know what you know or do you know what they know. If you were an actor and went to their acting school you wouldn't remember if you ever had natural talent. Remember your lines!
I know that it hurt me when he sacrificed priceless whole libraries to be sent by train for some low money amount that I don't remember because the only European money I've held are Euros and Hungarian currency. Anyway, it's peanuts like Canadian couch coins. Hurts! His most precious favorites make like a library and book for the hydraulic press. Entire print runs bite the callous hands of children before his eyes. No one will ever love them and he cannot save them all. If he were goodreads friends with me he might not want to save my favorites. You know when goodreads separated from amazon? I rescued one of Manny's Brigade Mondain books. Ha貌t谩? Would you? No, he'll never sleep tonight, Mariel! He'll be up adding back all of those trashy covers to the entire well beloved French series. Book lover's guilt. It haunts me that I buy so many books that I haven't read. I still buy more. It looks like you aren't alone when you feel a responsibility for what you have loved. Would he take it as far as I do?
I had a feeling while reading Too Loud a Solitude that it would not be a favorite book of mine, despite Ha貌t谩's last vestige of humanity attachments for his favorite words that I could relate to so very much, if his love didn't become a story of its own. I would have to think about him beyond them. Somewhere in his making connections between the mice and their mice mamas subsisting in his cellar it happened. They shared it with him. I can use that. I can see that. If he were me those mice would be from Terry Prachett's Maurice and his Educated Rodents. I don't have mice! Maybe certain people on goodreads would think my birds were no better than rodents but those people would be wrong! Or they might think that my chihuahua resembles a rat in certain lights. Wrong! Only my swiss cheese rat trap memory. Sometime in 2011 I removed some of my favorites because I had some dumb idea it should be more selective. I regret that because I need all the friends I can get. So the educated rodents would love to read Ha貌t谩's books (maybe Pork 'N' Beans would dig The Metaphysics of Morals. My favorite Kalix from Martin Millar's books is illiterate. She would eat On Tranquility of Mind). Ha貌t谩 thinks milk is disgusting and I am lactose intolerant (like him I even bring up this useless fact in book reviews from time to time). I would go with him to watch in disgust the efficient new book destroyers across town. It does not kill them to waste the paper.
"It never ceased to amaze me, until suddenly one day I felt beautiful and holy for having had the courage to hold on to my sanity after all I'd seen and been through, body and soul, in too loud a solitude, and slowly I came to the realization that my work was hurtling me headlong into an infinite field of omnipotence."
I'm relieved, although I am a bastard for saying this considering the way that Ha貌t谩 goes the way of his books, that someone else agonizes over this shit. I'm half way through William Faulkner's Light in August during the writing of this review and Joe Christmas has done my head in on my books and solace and the place where you can relate to others and be safe from expectations and too loud a solitude. I wish I had a philosophy. I wish I had words of solace and shit to believe in instead of just telling about make believe people and book to eyes connection. It may be too soon to tell. Maybe I'll figure it out. (Okay, I'm too damned sensitive.) I start to worry that the books don't want me either.
When I was younger I liked to "collect" descriptions of people in books. I can't tell you how fucking bored it makes me when a writer trots out 'beautiful' (which is tragically all the damned time, as if ANY asshole couldn't do that same thing). 'Solitude' had a great one for one of Ha貌t谩's girlfriends (I also loved that he envied her becoming the sort of person that other people would want to write about. I would tell you which author I think would write about me but people might laugh at me). Anyway, I liked this:
"Manca had gray hair now, but she wrote it in a kind of reformatory cut, a crew cut, like an athlete with a touch of spirituality; one of her eyes was lower than the other, which gave her a distinguished look, and if she seemed to squint a little, it was not because she had bad vision but because one of her eyes had simply got stuck while staring beyond the threshold of the infinite into the very center of an equilateral triangle, into the very heart of being, or as a Catholic existentialist once put it, her defective eye symbolized the diamond's eternal blemish."
Books aren't solitude if you think about people like that because you were sitting alone taking the time... If you started to think about people you met to describe them like that (it is why I used to collect those). Yeah, to take the time. Words that are yours and words that are theirs and then they are yours because you took the time. I don't know about destruction. I wasn't giving up yet. (I would get damned emotional about it. It would eat me alive. My eyes would be raccoon eyes. I would read another book and hope to feel alive again. Books will love you back!) I would have probably invented some reason to put books into that hydraulic press too. What if I had to destroy a Kawabata? The hydraulic press wants to read! Look, that's his eyes and that's his mouth and he's one of those annoying kids from elementary school that read aloud and took too long when you were already into the story. Now he is crying because the story moves him. He loves to read. He'll probably be awfully popular on goodreads.
(It only took me two hours and twenty one minutes to despise and strike this one from the feed. I'm not floating, really, I'm putting it back. I understand feelings of unworthiness when it comes to vocalizing about the things you love. Why couldn't there be a hydraulic press to squeeze out one's own drippiness in? I'd put me into that. Really I would. I have book lover's guilt of a different kind but I have it and boy did I relate to this book. The key is to keep drinking! More books.)
Ha貌t谩 of Too Loud a Solitude would be friends with me if he were on goodreads. He would so! So what if I haven't read Hegel or Kant? So what if I could only quote from Terry Pratchett (a wise man in his own write)? The books are his whole life and he talks about them as if nothing would stand in his way if there were a two-way mirror between himself and the innermost face behind the face of the books. They would have forever to get to know each other. I envy Ha貌t谩 the way the words live on his tongue as if they could be uttered in the moment of need to bring light. I wonder if I did read any philosophers would they be of any comfort to me too. I tell myself stories as if I could step out of reality and into the one I'm creating inside.
If Ha貌t谩 were on goodreads I would look at the computer screen (okay, I've already admitted that I use an ipod touch screen for 98.9% of my goodreading so there's no point in lying here now) and it would be like there was a window to look through between us. Books are real! Books matter and books are everything if you're one of us. It hurts Ha貌t谩 to compact the scarecrow wanting its brain of ink sentences, and the lion with its if I only had courage you can't judge a book by its cover and the tin man with its heart made of paper glued to binding that holds everything together with an indestructible spine. Can they become something else, something better, and have meaning when they are killed?
Ha貌t谩 might be one of those drunk book reviewers on goodreads, though. He has to have beer to read. I wondered if he drank so much to be like me. I don't think I would ever need to do that to write a review either. I would just throw up in the toilet when I remembered what I admitted to the morning after. Ha貌t谩's grandfathers and their fathers saw faeries at their elbows bar side, and Ha貌t谩 Jesus and Lao-tze as the ebb and flow in the pool he's face down in. The sword of Damascus hangs over his head every night. He sleeps beneath tons of books. Their weight could be that of your baby reminding you that you have to get up in the morning, or the ghost cat or old person who steals your vital energy through your breath. Six feet under and as high as cloud nine. Names theirs and do you know what you know or do you know what they know. If you were an actor and went to their acting school you wouldn't remember if you ever had natural talent. Remember your lines!
I know that it hurt me when he sacrificed priceless whole libraries to be sent by train for some low money amount that I don't remember because the only European money I've held are Euros and Hungarian currency. Anyway, it's peanuts like Canadian couch coins. Hurts! His most precious favorites make like a library and book for the hydraulic press. Entire print runs bite the callous hands of children before his eyes. No one will ever love them and he cannot save them all. If he were goodreads friends with me he might not want to save my favorites. You know when goodreads separated from amazon? I rescued one of Manny's Brigade Mondain books. Ha貌t谩? Would you? No, he'll never sleep tonight, Mariel! He'll be up adding back all of those trashy covers to the entire well beloved French series. Book lover's guilt. It haunts me that I buy so many books that I haven't read. I still buy more. It looks like you aren't alone when you feel a responsibility for what you have loved. Would he take it as far as I do?
I had a feeling while reading Too Loud a Solitude that it would not be a favorite book of mine, despite Ha貌t谩's last vestige of humanity attachments for his favorite words that I could relate to so very much, if his love didn't become a story of its own. I would have to think about him beyond them. Somewhere in his making connections between the mice and their mice mamas subsisting in his cellar it happened. They shared it with him. I can use that. I can see that. If he were me those mice would be from Terry Prachett's Maurice and his Educated Rodents. I don't have mice! Maybe certain people on goodreads would think my birds were no better than rodents but those people would be wrong! Or they might think that my chihuahua resembles a rat in certain lights. Wrong! Only my swiss cheese rat trap memory. Sometime in 2011 I removed some of my favorites because I had some dumb idea it should be more selective. I regret that because I need all the friends I can get. So the educated rodents would love to read Ha貌t谩's books (maybe Pork 'N' Beans would dig The Metaphysics of Morals. My favorite Kalix from Martin Millar's books is illiterate. She would eat On Tranquility of Mind). Ha貌t谩 thinks milk is disgusting and I am lactose intolerant (like him I even bring up this useless fact in book reviews from time to time). I would go with him to watch in disgust the efficient new book destroyers across town. It does not kill them to waste the paper.
"It never ceased to amaze me, until suddenly one day I felt beautiful and holy for having had the courage to hold on to my sanity after all I'd seen and been through, body and soul, in too loud a solitude, and slowly I came to the realization that my work was hurtling me headlong into an infinite field of omnipotence."
I'm relieved, although I am a bastard for saying this considering the way that Ha貌t谩 goes the way of his books, that someone else agonizes over this shit. I'm half way through William Faulkner's Light in August during the writing of this review and Joe Christmas has done my head in on my books and solace and the place where you can relate to others and be safe from expectations and too loud a solitude. I wish I had a philosophy. I wish I had words of solace and shit to believe in instead of just telling about make believe people and book to eyes connection. It may be too soon to tell. Maybe I'll figure it out. (Okay, I'm too damned sensitive.) I start to worry that the books don't want me either.
When I was younger I liked to "collect" descriptions of people in books. I can't tell you how fucking bored it makes me when a writer trots out 'beautiful' (which is tragically all the damned time, as if ANY asshole couldn't do that same thing). 'Solitude' had a great one for one of Ha貌t谩's girlfriends (I also loved that he envied her becoming the sort of person that other people would want to write about. I would tell you which author I think would write about me but people might laugh at me). Anyway, I liked this:
"Manca had gray hair now, but she wrote it in a kind of reformatory cut, a crew cut, like an athlete with a touch of spirituality; one of her eyes was lower than the other, which gave her a distinguished look, and if she seemed to squint a little, it was not because she had bad vision but because one of her eyes had simply got stuck while staring beyond the threshold of the infinite into the very center of an equilateral triangle, into the very heart of being, or as a Catholic existentialist once put it, her defective eye symbolized the diamond's eternal blemish."
Books aren't solitude if you think about people like that because you were sitting alone taking the time... If you started to think about people you met to describe them like that (it is why I used to collect those). Yeah, to take the time. Words that are yours and words that are theirs and then they are yours because you took the time. I don't know about destruction. I wasn't giving up yet. (I would get damned emotional about it. It would eat me alive. My eyes would be raccoon eyes. I would read another book and hope to feel alive again. Books will love you back!) I would have probably invented some reason to put books into that hydraulic press too. What if I had to destroy a Kawabata? The hydraulic press wants to read! Look, that's his eyes and that's his mouth and he's one of those annoying kids from elementary school that read aloud and took too long when you were already into the story. Now he is crying because the story moves him. He loves to read. He'll probably be awfully popular on goodreads.
(It only took me two hours and twenty one minutes to despise and strike this one from the feed. I'm not floating, really, I'm putting it back. I understand feelings of unworthiness when it comes to vocalizing about the things you love. Why couldn't there be a hydraulic press to squeeze out one's own drippiness in? I'd put me into that. Really I would. I have book lover's guilt of a different kind but I have it and boy did I relate to this book. The key is to keep drinking! More books.)
November 1, 2023
4.5
鈥淓very beloved object is the center of a garden of paradise.鈥�
-Novalis
Somebody writes a book, somebody edits it, somebody designs the cover, somebody sets it, somebody proofreads it, somebody makes the corrections, somebody prints the book, somebody binds the book, somebody packs the books into boxes, somebody does the accounts and then somebody decides that the book is unfit to be read, so somebody orders it banned, somebody orders it pulped, somebody puts all the books in storage, somebody loads them on the truck, and somebody drives the truck to where our Ha艌钮a has been compacting rejected or unwanted books for thirty-five years.
The heavens are not humane, nor is any man with a head on his shoulders.
But Ha艌钮a, does more than feed the pages to be pressed into oblivion鈥e reads them; he savours them; he lives them and sometimes he keeps them.
When I read, I don鈥檛 really read; I pop a beautiful sentence into my mouth and suck it like a fruit drop, or I sip it like a liqueur until the thought dissolves in me like alcohol, infusing brain and heart and coursing on through the veins to the root of each blood vessel.
Imagine you dear reader, are in charge of destroying books; it is your job; it is your livelihood. Imagine you peer into the mass of wastepaper and find a rare book among them. Imagine the only thing that keeps you going on is the joy of finding the written words you love to read. Now imagine this everyday treat is cut short because you are no longer needed for the job.
Not until we鈥檙e totally crushed do we show what we are made of.
鈥淓very beloved object is the center of a garden of paradise.鈥�
-Novalis
Somebody writes a book, somebody edits it, somebody designs the cover, somebody sets it, somebody proofreads it, somebody makes the corrections, somebody prints the book, somebody binds the book, somebody packs the books into boxes, somebody does the accounts and then somebody decides that the book is unfit to be read, so somebody orders it banned, somebody orders it pulped, somebody puts all the books in storage, somebody loads them on the truck, and somebody drives the truck to where our Ha艌钮a has been compacting rejected or unwanted books for thirty-five years.
The heavens are not humane, nor is any man with a head on his shoulders.
But Ha艌钮a, does more than feed the pages to be pressed into oblivion鈥e reads them; he savours them; he lives them and sometimes he keeps them.
When I read, I don鈥檛 really read; I pop a beautiful sentence into my mouth and suck it like a fruit drop, or I sip it like a liqueur until the thought dissolves in me like alcohol, infusing brain and heart and coursing on through the veins to the root of each blood vessel.
Imagine you dear reader, are in charge of destroying books; it is your job; it is your livelihood. Imagine you peer into the mass of wastepaper and find a rare book among them. Imagine the only thing that keeps you going on is the joy of finding the written words you love to read. Now imagine this everyday treat is cut short because you are no longer needed for the job.
Not until we鈥檙e totally crushed do we show what we are made of.
August 26, 2016
On a lazy summer day, at the age of 5, I made my first true friend. As I stared deeper into its face, I begged, pleaded my mother to let me be friends with this elegant thing. Even with a stubborn promise of practicing my cursive writing for an hour daily, it took my mother more than a week to be able to allow me to bring this new friendship in my life. Over the years, I have made several friends and have been at the receiving end of the love-hate relationship for decades. Some have chosen me and some I have chosen. We do not get to choose our families, so I take a bit of an extra effort in choosing my friends. Along the way, some of them have being embraced, some thrown amid a fit of rage, some ignored, some misplaced and then there have been those who have cured my reclusiveness. And, now all my dear ones, old and new, live together with great camaraderie behind the wooden door waiting to be picked up for some friendly banter. My parents gave me a loving heart, the school and streets taught me discipline, but it were the books that made me human; they bestowed me the gift of a liberated soul that harbors no prejudices and appreciates other people irrespective to their stations in life for they have innumerable stories that are yet to be heard and written. Hant谩 too had a story yet to be told and when those precious sentences flowed from his mouth emitting the fragrance of a freshly sucked fruit drop, copious tears ferociously rushed down my cheeks ignoring my gentle pleas as they rested on my fingertips; the green and red buttons flashing in the background.
鈥淚f I knew how to write, I'd write a book about the greatest of man's joys and sorrows. It is by and from books that I've learned that the heavens are not humane, neither the heavens nor any man with a head on his shoulders鈥� it's not that men don't wish to be humane, it just goes against common sense.鈥�
As the door of the cellar opened, through the beaming sunlight descended the prized words of Goethe, Sartre, Hegel, Lao-Tze and many more; a steady shower of erudite sentences that peeked through the crumpled sheets of paper, verses that may never see daylight again, it was as if the inhumane heavens gifted Hant谩 the gems of mankind for the final time as a tribute to the admirable artist. For thirty-five years, the mulish sounds of the cold metal obeying the marching orders of the green and red lights , shuddered through the dark interiors of the cellar as the radiance of education dispersed steadily in the beer-laden core of Hant谩鈥檚 physicality. Hant谩 was a connoisseur of books for he knew to identify a Goethe from a Schiller and scout a Nietzsche reading like a Homeric prophecy. Hant谩 called himself a 鈥渞efined butcher鈥�. What a tragedy! A man who crushes paper for a living perceives his work as a slaughtering fest, while those who massacre guiltless lives bestow themselves with honorary badges of 鈥渉umane leaders鈥�. Those who slay libertarian expressions revel in their wreckage while those like Hant谩 bear the burden of the putrefying corpses. In the dense solitude following the peripheral mayhem, Hant谩 was a passionate audience who knew the merit of fighting for free speech, but inopportune circumstances made him experience the pleasure of wreckage, for obliteration is all he saw as his youthful illusion drowned in the Olympic beer pool.
鈥淎nd while the sewers of Prague provide the scene for a senseless war between two armies of rats, the cellars are headquarters for Prague's fallen angels, university-educated men who have lost a battle they never fought, yet continue to work toward a clearer image of the world.鈥�
The white mice annihilated the brown ones and then the triumphant white ones indulged in a war of their own, humiliating their own mates. The sewers of Prague were plagued by a battle that went on years to come. A city, a country, in the midst of turmoil butchering their own kin for egotistical prejudices, squalor contaminated the blissful lives smothering it with faeces of brutality and discomfiture splashing everywhere, just like those that had soiled the ribbons of Manca bringing ignominy and relinquishing her glory. Through Hant谩鈥檚 empathetic words, Hrabal paints the distorted reality of his homeland (Czech Republic) that saw democracy decaying in the graves dug by the tyrannical elements of Communism. Hrabal鈥檚 country saw a melee of wars that rose through decades of inhumane treatment, bloody revolutions and ultimately liberation. For decades, Hant谩 regularly dug literary graves beneath the sturdy hydraulic press and his country massacred free speech and social equality. During the onset of a political spring (Prague Spring, 1968), the country exhaled in the air of emancipation as bans on travel, speech and media were lifted. Nonetheless this heaven was a temporary respite and once again the country crumbled into depths of obscurity. Heaven is far from being humane, isn't it? While the livid rats were combating for the supremacy over the sewers, Hant谩 was haunted by the ghosts of the deceased books, every trampled mice making Hant谩 lose an ounce of compassion from his soul.
Why do we read books? What do we achieve from these books? Do books make us heartless or is it that we are blind to the humanity that resides within the pages of the book? Are books really that cruel? Is free speech demonic? The world is filled with idiots and these very idiots carry the traits of idiocy into the core of the tomes that are brutally ripped apart as if confiscating a disagreeable existence of life. The notion of Hrabal鈥檚 cherished words being ripped apart by political callousness and his books being treated far worse than a leper, brings excruciating pain.
鈥淚 put a Metaphysics of Morals by Immanuel Kant, and the flesh flies went berserk, attacking the last bits of dried and drying blood with such gluttony that they failed to notice the drum wall crushing and compacting them, separating them into membranes and cells."
In a land, at a time when guns were favored over pens, agonizing screams were audible than free speech, morality was a festering corpse and Hrabal鈥檚 books were sinners of human race. In the former sovereign Czechoslovakia (now Czech Republic), Gypsies were once privileged citizens of country that took pride in their ethnic culture. Only if, Hegel and Schopenhauer had not waged a confrontation, only if the words of Sartre and Plato had not crossed the wrong street corner, only if numerous pages were not crushed under the gigantic hydraulic press after every war; then the gorgeous gypsy girl would have been able to cook warm food for Hant谩 and lie down beside him in a loving embrace as Hant谩 happily sucked on to the fruity aromatic sentences from his books. In the mournful shower of wrinkled paper, the inhumane heavens had washed away the last lingering traces of kindness and love.
鈥�...until suddenly one day I felt beautiful and holy for having had the courage to hold on to my sanity after all I'd seen and been through, body and soul, in too loud a solitude, and slowly I came to the realization that my work was hurtling me headlong into an infinite field of omnipotence."
The cat is a coward when it does not let the mice squeak. The narcissistic mind is atrocious when it exterminates words from other minds. The voices of solitude burned, its ashes flowing through Hant谩鈥檚 body and soul and from Hant谩鈥檚 solitary wisdom came the courage to find beauty among the crackling noises of human bones. The age of industrialization brought with it an eccentric world alienating the old loyalists. With each new compacter established, the fears of the collector becoming the collection burgeoned among heaps of wastepaper whilst mocking Sisyphus as Camus was shredded into white confetti. Paper was being recycled, so were the books and inked words, all of them recycled ushering a new era; sadly lives cannot be recycled and are forever jammed in a claustrophobic time-zone praying for a miracle like those discarded pages of a book, hoping to be saved .
The man who guards the cemetery somehow values life much more than those who walk past it, for he is surrounded by the stillness of death. To me, Hant谩 was a not a refined butcher. Hant谩 was clandestine priest who eulogized the books wishing that they would bestow the gift of humanity to the merciless heavens. After all it is a love story. Yet, in love and war, commonsense is not a commonplace. Lao-tze says,"to be born is to exit and to die is to enter?" Does he mean to exit and enter the realms of humanity through commonsense and compassion?
Hant谩, the man who made me cry the entire night, only to befriend me the very next day, marking the beginning of a life-long friendship. Are you listening Hrabal?
**[The above picture is taken from the namesake movie]
鈥淚f I knew how to write, I'd write a book about the greatest of man's joys and sorrows. It is by and from books that I've learned that the heavens are not humane, neither the heavens nor any man with a head on his shoulders鈥� it's not that men don't wish to be humane, it just goes against common sense.鈥�
As the door of the cellar opened, through the beaming sunlight descended the prized words of Goethe, Sartre, Hegel, Lao-Tze and many more; a steady shower of erudite sentences that peeked through the crumpled sheets of paper, verses that may never see daylight again, it was as if the inhumane heavens gifted Hant谩 the gems of mankind for the final time as a tribute to the admirable artist. For thirty-five years, the mulish sounds of the cold metal obeying the marching orders of the green and red lights , shuddered through the dark interiors of the cellar as the radiance of education dispersed steadily in the beer-laden core of Hant谩鈥檚 physicality. Hant谩 was a connoisseur of books for he knew to identify a Goethe from a Schiller and scout a Nietzsche reading like a Homeric prophecy. Hant谩 called himself a 鈥渞efined butcher鈥�. What a tragedy! A man who crushes paper for a living perceives his work as a slaughtering fest, while those who massacre guiltless lives bestow themselves with honorary badges of 鈥渉umane leaders鈥�. Those who slay libertarian expressions revel in their wreckage while those like Hant谩 bear the burden of the putrefying corpses. In the dense solitude following the peripheral mayhem, Hant谩 was a passionate audience who knew the merit of fighting for free speech, but inopportune circumstances made him experience the pleasure of wreckage, for obliteration is all he saw as his youthful illusion drowned in the Olympic beer pool.
鈥淎nd while the sewers of Prague provide the scene for a senseless war between two armies of rats, the cellars are headquarters for Prague's fallen angels, university-educated men who have lost a battle they never fought, yet continue to work toward a clearer image of the world.鈥�
The white mice annihilated the brown ones and then the triumphant white ones indulged in a war of their own, humiliating their own mates. The sewers of Prague were plagued by a battle that went on years to come. A city, a country, in the midst of turmoil butchering their own kin for egotistical prejudices, squalor contaminated the blissful lives smothering it with faeces of brutality and discomfiture splashing everywhere, just like those that had soiled the ribbons of Manca bringing ignominy and relinquishing her glory. Through Hant谩鈥檚 empathetic words, Hrabal paints the distorted reality of his homeland (Czech Republic) that saw democracy decaying in the graves dug by the tyrannical elements of Communism. Hrabal鈥檚 country saw a melee of wars that rose through decades of inhumane treatment, bloody revolutions and ultimately liberation. For decades, Hant谩 regularly dug literary graves beneath the sturdy hydraulic press and his country massacred free speech and social equality. During the onset of a political spring (Prague Spring, 1968), the country exhaled in the air of emancipation as bans on travel, speech and media were lifted. Nonetheless this heaven was a temporary respite and once again the country crumbled into depths of obscurity. Heaven is far from being humane, isn't it? While the livid rats were combating for the supremacy over the sewers, Hant谩 was haunted by the ghosts of the deceased books, every trampled mice making Hant谩 lose an ounce of compassion from his soul.
Why do we read books? What do we achieve from these books? Do books make us heartless or is it that we are blind to the humanity that resides within the pages of the book? Are books really that cruel? Is free speech demonic? The world is filled with idiots and these very idiots carry the traits of idiocy into the core of the tomes that are brutally ripped apart as if confiscating a disagreeable existence of life. The notion of Hrabal鈥檚 cherished words being ripped apart by political callousness and his books being treated far worse than a leper, brings excruciating pain.
鈥淚 put a Metaphysics of Morals by Immanuel Kant, and the flesh flies went berserk, attacking the last bits of dried and drying blood with such gluttony that they failed to notice the drum wall crushing and compacting them, separating them into membranes and cells."
In a land, at a time when guns were favored over pens, agonizing screams were audible than free speech, morality was a festering corpse and Hrabal鈥檚 books were sinners of human race. In the former sovereign Czechoslovakia (now Czech Republic), Gypsies were once privileged citizens of country that took pride in their ethnic culture. Only if, Hegel and Schopenhauer had not waged a confrontation, only if the words of Sartre and Plato had not crossed the wrong street corner, only if numerous pages were not crushed under the gigantic hydraulic press after every war; then the gorgeous gypsy girl would have been able to cook warm food for Hant谩 and lie down beside him in a loving embrace as Hant谩 happily sucked on to the fruity aromatic sentences from his books. In the mournful shower of wrinkled paper, the inhumane heavens had washed away the last lingering traces of kindness and love.
鈥�...until suddenly one day I felt beautiful and holy for having had the courage to hold on to my sanity after all I'd seen and been through, body and soul, in too loud a solitude, and slowly I came to the realization that my work was hurtling me headlong into an infinite field of omnipotence."
The cat is a coward when it does not let the mice squeak. The narcissistic mind is atrocious when it exterminates words from other minds. The voices of solitude burned, its ashes flowing through Hant谩鈥檚 body and soul and from Hant谩鈥檚 solitary wisdom came the courage to find beauty among the crackling noises of human bones. The age of industrialization brought with it an eccentric world alienating the old loyalists. With each new compacter established, the fears of the collector becoming the collection burgeoned among heaps of wastepaper whilst mocking Sisyphus as Camus was shredded into white confetti. Paper was being recycled, so were the books and inked words, all of them recycled ushering a new era; sadly lives cannot be recycled and are forever jammed in a claustrophobic time-zone praying for a miracle like those discarded pages of a book, hoping to be saved .
The man who guards the cemetery somehow values life much more than those who walk past it, for he is surrounded by the stillness of death. To me, Hant谩 was a not a refined butcher. Hant谩 was clandestine priest who eulogized the books wishing that they would bestow the gift of humanity to the merciless heavens. After all it is a love story. Yet, in love and war, commonsense is not a commonplace. Lao-tze says,"to be born is to exit and to die is to enter?" Does he mean to exit and enter the realms of humanity through commonsense and compassion?
Hant谩, the man who made me cry the entire night, only to befriend me the very next day, marking the beginning of a life-long friendship. Are you listening Hrabal?
**[The above picture is taken from the namesake movie]
October 18, 2021
毓丕賱蹖貙 丿乇噩賴鈥屰� 蹖讴 賵 賲賲鬲丕夭 亘丕 倬丕蹖丕賳蹖 禺丕乇賯鈥屫з勜关ж�!
诏賮鬲丕乇 丕賳丿乇 爻鬲丕蹖卮 賳賵蹖爻賳丿賴
鬲賳賴丕蹖蹖 倬乇 賴蹖丕賴賵貙 亘乇丕蹖 賲賳 毓賳賵丕賳蹖 賳丕卮賳丕禺鬲賴 丕夭 賳賵蹖爻賳丿賴鈥屫й� 賳丕丌卮賳丕 亘賵丿 賵 丕蹖賳 賱胤賮 亘蹖讴乇丕賳 丿賵爻鬲 賳丕夭賳蹖賳賲 亘賵丿 讴賴 讴鬲丕亘 乇丕 亘賴 賲賳 賴丿蹖賴 丿丕丿 鬲丕 賱匕鬲 禺賵丕賳丿賳卮 賳氐蹖亘賲 诏乇丿丿.
丕毓鬲乇丕賮 賲蹖鈥屭┵嗁� 賵賯鬲蹖 丿乇 氐賮丨賴鈥屰� 賳禺爻鬲 亘丕 鬲毓乇蹖賮鈥� 賵 鬲賲噩蹖丿鈥屬囏й� 噩丕賳丕賳賴鈥屰� 芦賲蹖賱丕賳 讴賵賳丿乇丕禄 賵 賳卮乇蹖丕鬲 賲毓鬲亘乇賽 诏丕乇丿蹖賳貙 鬲丕蹖賲夭 賵 賱爻鈥屫①嗀勜� 鬲丕蹖賲夭 乇賵亘乇賵 卮丿賲 亘賴 禺賵丿 诏賮鬲賲 蹖丕 賳賵蹖爻賳丿賴 丿乇 賲蹖丕賳 丕蹖賳 鬲毓丕乇蹖賮 丿賮賳 禺賵丕賴丿 卮丿 蹖丕 丕賵 蹖讴 卮丕賴讴丕乇 禺賱賯 讴乇丿賴 賵 丿乇 丕賳鬲賴丕 亘賴 丕蹖賳 賳鬲蹖噩賴 乇爻蹖丿賲 讴賴 丕賵 丨賯蹖賯鬲丕 卮丕蹖爻鬲賴鈥屰� 丕蹖賳 鬲毓丕乇蹖賮 亘賵丿賴 丕爻鬲.
卮賴乇丿丕乇 卮賴乇 賲丨賱 爻讴賵賳鬲 賴乇丕亘丕賱 丿乇 賵氐賮卮 賲蹖鈥屭堐屫�:
"賴賲賴鈥屰� 賲丕 丕夭 卮賳蹖丿賳 氐丿丕蹖 賲丕卮蹖賳 鬲丨乇蹖乇 丕賵 丿乇 诏匕乇 丕夭 亘乇丕亘乇 倬賳噩乇賴鈥屰� 禺丕賳賴鈥屫ж� 卮丕丿 賲蹖鈥屫簇屬� 賵 亘賴 賯賵賱 賴乇丕亘丕賱 賲蹖鈥屭佖屬�: 芦禺賵亘 丕爻鬲. 丿丕乇丿 賲蹖鈥屬嗁堐屫池�. 倬爻 賴賳賵夭 夭賳丿賴 丕爻鬲!禄... 丕賵 丿乇 賵丕賯毓 賳賲乇丿賴 丕爻鬲貙 賮賯胤 丿蹖诏乇 賳賲蹖鈥屬嗁堐屫池�."
倬乇賵丕囟丨 丕爻鬲 讴賴 賴乇丕亘丕賱 賳賵卮鬲賳 乇丕 亘賱丿 亘賵丿貙 胤賳夭 乇丕 賲蹖鈥屫促嗀ж� 賵 乇賵蹖 丕賮讴丕乇卮 亘賴 噩賴鬲 丕賳鬲賯丕賱 亘賴 讴丕睾匕 鬲爻賱胤 讴丕賲賱 丿丕卮鬲 賵 丕蹖賳 趩賳蹖锟斤拷 丕爻鬲 讴賴 鬲賵丕賳爻鬲賴 趩賳蹖賳 丕孬乇蹖 禺賱賯 賳賲丕蹖丿.
诏賮鬲丕乇 丕賳丿乇 爻鬲丕蹖卮 賲鬲乇噩賲
丿乇 丕蹖賳 鬲乇蹖亘賵賳 賱丕夭賲 賲蹖鈥屫з嗁� 亘禺丕胤乇 賲賯丿賲賴鈥屰� 亘丕卮讴賵賴蹖 讴賴 丌賯丕蹖 芦倬乇賵蹖夭 丿賵丕卅蹖禄 亘乇丕蹖 賲毓乇賮蹖 賳賵蹖爻賳丿賴 賳賵卮鬲賴鈥屫з嗀� 夭丨賲丕鬲蹖 讴賴 亘乇丕蹖 鬲乇噩賲賴 讴卮蹖丿賴鈥屫з嗀� 賵 賴賲趩賳蹖賳 毓卮賯 賵 丕丨鬲乇丕賲蹖 讴賴 亘賴 賳賵蹖爻賳丿賴鈥屰� 賲丨亘賵亘 禺賵丿 丕亘乇丕夭 丿丕卮鬲賴鈥屫з嗀� 氐賲蹖賲丕賳賴 鬲卮讴乇 賳賲丕蹖賲 賵 亘賴 丕丨鬲乇丕賲 丕蹖卮丕賳 讴賱丕賴 丕夭 爻乇 亘乇丿丕乇賲.
丿乇 亘禺卮蹖 丕夭 賲賯丿賲賴 丕夭 夭亘丕賳 賲鬲乇噩賲 賲蹖鈥屫堌з嗃屬�:
"倬丕爻禺蹖 賴賲 亘賴 丿賵爻鬲丕賳 賵 禺賵丕賳賳丿诏丕賳 丿賵乇 賵 賳夭丿蹖讴賲 賲丿蹖賵賳賲 讴賴 丕夭 丕蹖賳 亘賳丿賴 禺賵丕爻鬲賴鈥� 亘賵丿賳丿 讴賴 亘賴 爻乇丕睾 丌孬丕乇 丿蹖诏乇 丕蹖賳 賳賵蹖爻賳丿賴 亘乇賵賲. 賲鬲丕爻賮賲! 亘噩夭 丕蹖賳 讴鬲丕亘 賴乇丕亘丕賱 讴賴 毓乇囟 卮丿貙 讴賴 亘賴 賳馗乇 賳丕賯丿丕賳 賵 禺亘乇诏丕賳 趩讴 亘賴鬲乇蹖賳 丕孬乇 丕賵爻鬲貙 賵 賳蹖夭 亘蹖芦囟乇乇鬲乇蹖賳禄卮丕賳 亘乇丕蹖 毓乇囟賴 丿乇 亘丕夭丕乇 賳卮乇 丕賲乇賵夭 爻乇夭賲蹖賳 賲丕貙 鬲乇噩賲賴鈥屬� 爻丕蹖乇 丌孬丕乇 丕賵(讴賴 亘乇丕蹖 賮乇賴賳诏 丿蹖诏乇蹖 賳賵卮鬲賴 卮丿賴 丕爻鬲) 丿乇 卮乇丕蹖胤 賱夭賵賲 丿禺丕賱鬲 賵 丿爻鬲讴丕乇蹖鈥屬囏й屰� 乇丕 丕賯鬲囟丕 賲蹖鈥屭┵嗀� 讴賴 丕蹖賳 亘賳丿賴 丿乇 賲賵乇丿 禺賵蹖卮 亘賴鈥� 禺氐賵氐 丿乇 丨賯 趩賳蹖賳 賳賵蹖爻賳丿賴鈥屫й� 丌賳鈥屫必� 賲胤賱賯丕 乇賵丕 賳賲蹖鈥屫ж必�. 丿蹖诏乇丕賳 丿乇 賲賵乇丿 鬲乇噩賲賴鈥屰� 丌孬丕乇 賳賵蹖爻賳丿诏丕賳 丿蹖诏乇 趩賳蹖賳 讴乇丿賴鈥屫з嗀� 賵 賲蹖鈥屭┵嗁嗀�. 亘讴賳賳丿!"
丕賲蹖丿賵丕乇賲 丕蹖賳 毓卮賯 賵 丕丨鬲乇丕賲 賵 丨賮馗 丨賯賵賯 賳賵蹖爻賳丿賴貙 爻乇賱賵丨賴鈥屰� 鬲賲丕賲 賲鬲乇噩賲丕賳 噩丿蹖丿 賵 賯丿蹖賲蹖 讴卮賵乇賲 賯乇丕乇 诏蹖乇丿 賵 亘賴 禺氐賵氐 亘乇丕蹖 亘丕乇 n丕賲 丕夭 賲鬲乇噩賲蹖賳 賵 賳丕卮乇蹖賳 丌孬丕乇 賲賵乇丕讴丕賲蹖 毓夭蹖夭賲 丿乇 丕蹖乇丕賳 禺賵丕賴卮 賲蹖鈥屭┵嗁� 亘噩丕蹖 丌賵蹖夭丕賳 卮丿賳 丕夭 丌賱鬲 賲賵乇丕讴丕賲蹖 亘賴 噩賴鬲 鬲丨氐蹖賱 賲丕賱 丕夭 乇丕賴 賳丕賲卮乇賵毓 賵 賱诏丿賲丕賱 讴乇丿賳 丨賯賵賯 賳賵蹖爻賳丿賴 亘賴 爻亘亘 毓丿賲 乇毓丕蹖鬲 賯賵丕賳蹖賳 讴倬蹖 乇丕蹖鬲 賵 鬲讴賴 鬲讴賴 讴乇丿賳 丌孬丕乇 賵 趩丕倬 丌賳 亘丕 鬲乇噩賲賴鈥屬囏й� 囟毓蹖賮 鬲丨鬲 賳丕賲鈥屬囏й� 賲賳 丿乇丌賵乇丿蹖 禺賵丿丿丕乇蹖 賳賲丕蹖賳丿貙 丕賲蹖丿賵丕乇賲 丕蹖賳 乇賮鬲丕乇 丨乇賮賴鈥屫й� 丌賯丕蹖 倬乇賵蹖夭 丿賵丕卅蹖 鬲賱賳诏乇蹖 亘丕卮丿 亘乇 倬蹖讴乇賴鈥屰� 賳丕丕賴賱丕賳 氐賳毓鬲 趩丕倬 賵 賳卮乇 丿乇 丕蹖乇丕賳!
诏賮鬲丕乇 丕賳丿乇 丿丕爻鬲丕賳 讴鬲丕亘
丿丕爻鬲丕賳 讴鬲丕亘 丿乇 賴卮鬲 賮氐賱 賳诏丕乇卮 卮丿賴 賵 芦賴丕賳鬲丕禄 卮禺氐蹖鬲 丕賵賱 丿丕爻鬲丕賳 丕爻鬲.
賴丕賳鬲丕 爻蹖 賵 倬賳噩 爻丕賱賴貙 鬲丨氐蹖賱 讴乇丿賴 賵 毓丕卮賯 讴鬲丕亘 賵 讴鬲丕亘鈥屫堌з嗃屸€屫池� 丕賲丕 卮睾賱卮 禺賲蹖乇 讴乇丿賳 讴鬲丕亘鈥屬囏ж池� 賵 丕夭 蹖丕賮鬲賳 亘乇禺蹖 讴鬲丕亘鈥屬囏й� 賳丕蹖丕亘 賵 賲賵乇丿毓賱丕賯賴鈥屫ж� 讴賱讴爻蹖賵賳蹖 賳丕亘 亘乇丕蹖 禺賵丿 诏乇丿丌賵乇蹖 讴乇丿賴 賵 亘賴 卮讴賱 亘爻蹖丕乇 噩匕丕亘 丕夭 鬲噩丕乇亘卮貙 卮丕丿蹖鈥屬囏й屫簇� 賱乇夭蹖丿賳 丿賱卮貙 睾賲鈥屬囏й屫� 賵 ... 賲蹖鈥屭堐屫�.
鬲讴賳蹖讴貙 芦亘賴 丿乇 亘诏賵 丿蹖賵丕乇 亘卮賳賵賴禄鈥� 讴賴 鬲讴賳蹖讴 賲乇爻賵賲 賳賵蹖爻賳丿诏丕賳蹖鈥屫池� 讴賴 丌夭丕丿蹖 毓賲賱 噩賴鬲 賳賵卮鬲賳 賳丿丕卮鬲賳丿 賵 丌蹖賳賴鈥屰� 鬲賲丕賲 賳賲丕蹖 丌賳 乇丕 芦賲乇卮丿 賵 賲丕乇诏丕乇蹖鬲丕禄 丕夭 亘賵賱诏丕讴賮 賲蹖鈥屫з嗁� 丿乇 丕蹖賳 讴鬲丕亘 倬乇乇賳诏 亘賵丿貙 賴乇丕亘丕賱 丿乇 賯丕賱亘 噩賲賱賴鈥屬囏й� 亘賴 馗丕賴乇 爻丕丿賴鈥屫ж� 亘賴 乇禺丿丕丿賴丕蹖 爻蹖丕爻蹖 賵 丕噩鬲賲丕毓蹖 丿賵乇丕賳 禺賵丿 賳蹖夭 丕卮丕乇賴 丿丕卮鬲.
賳賯賱鈥屬傎堎� 賳丕賲賴
"鬲賲丕賲 丌賳趩賴 丕夭 蹖讴 賮乇丿 亘卮乇蹖 亘丕賯蹖 賲蹖鈥屬呚з嗀� 诏賵诏乇丿蹖 丕爻鬲 讴賴 噩毓亘賴鈥屰� 讴亘乇蹖鬲蹖 乇丕 讴賮丕蹖鬲 讴賳丿 賵 丌賴賳蹖 讴賴 亘鬲賵丕賳丿 亘丕 丌賳 賲蹖禺蹖 爻丕禺鬲 讴賴 丕賳爻丕賳 亘鬲賵丕賳丿 丕夭 丌賳 禺賵丿 乇丕 丨賱賯鈥屫①堐屫� 爻丕夭丿."
"賵賯鬲蹖 卮乇賵毓 亘賴 禺賵丕賳丿賳 賲蹖鈥屭┵嗁� 亘賴 毓丕賱賲 丿蹖诏乇蹖 賮乇賵 賲蹖鈥屫辟堎呚� 丿乇 賲鬲賳 睾乇賯 賲蹖鈥屫促堎�. 禺賵丿賲 丨蹖乇鬲 賲蹖鈥屭┵嗁� 賵 亘丕蹖丿 诏賳丕賴讴丕乇丕賳賴 丕毓鬲乇丕賮 讴賳賲 讴賴 賵丕賯毓丕 丿乇 毓丕賱賲 乇賵蹖丕 亘賵丿賲貙 丿乇 丿賳蹖丕蹖蹖 夭蹖亘丕鬲乇貙鈥� 丿乇 賯賱亘 丨賯蹖賯鬲貙 賴乇 乇賵夭貙鈥� 乇賵夭蹖 丿賴 亘丕乇貙鈥� 丕夭 丕蹖賳讴賴 丕夭 禺賵丿賲 趩賳蹖賳 亘賴 丿賵乇 丕賮鬲丕丿賴 亘賵丿賲貙 睾乇賯 丕毓噩丕亘 賲蹖鈥屫促堎�."
"丨丕賱丕 賲蹖鈥屬佡囐呟屫� 讴賴 乇賲亘賵 丨賯 丿丕卮鬲 讴賴 诏賮賳: 芦噩賳诏賽鈥� 乇賵丨 賴賲丕賳鈥屬傌� 賵丨卮鬲賳丕讴 丕爻鬲 讴賴 噩賳诏 賲爻賱丨丕賳賴禄貙 丨丕賱丕 賲賮賴賵賲 賵丕賯毓蹖 丕蹖賳 讴賱丕賲 亘蹖鈥屫必呚з嗁団€屰� 賲爻蹖丨 乇丕 丿乇 賲蹖鈥屰屫з佖� 讴賴 芦亘乇丕蹖鬲丕賳 氐賱丨 賳蹖丕賵乇丿賴鈥屫з呚屸€屫促呚篡屫� 丌賵乇丿賴鈥屫з�.禄"
讴丕乇賳丕賲赖
丕毓鬲乇丕賮 賲蹖鈥屭┵嗁� 倬蹖卮 丕夭 賮氐賱 賳賴丕蹖蹖 讴鬲丕亘 亘賴 爻賴 蹖丕 趩賴丕乇 爻鬲丕乇賴 賮讴乇 賲蹖鈥屭┴必� 丕賲丕 倬爻 丕夭 倬丕蹖丕賳 讴鬲丕亘 讴賴 卮丿蹖丿丕 鬲卮賳賴 卮丿賴 亘賵丿賲 賵 囟乇亘丕賳 賯賱亘賲 亘丕賱丕 乇賮鬲賴 亘賵丿 亘賴 趩賴丕乇 蹖丕 倬賳噩 爻鬲丕乇賴 丕賲丕 丨丕賱丕 讴賴 囟乇亘丕賳 賯賱亘賲 亘賴 乇蹖鬲賲 賲毓賲賵賱 禺賵丿 亘丕夭诏卮鬲賴 賵 鬲卮賳诏蹖 禺賵丿 乇丕 乇賮毓 賳賲賵丿賴鈥屫з� 趩賴丕乇 爻鬲丕乇賴 亘乇丕蹖卮 賲賳馗賵乇 賲蹖鈥屭┵嗁� 趩賵賳 丕诏乇 亘乇丕蹖 丕蹖賳 讴鬲丕亘 倬賳噩 爻鬲丕乇賴 賲賳馗賵乇 讴賳賲 亘賴 賱蹖爻鬲 亘賴鬲乇蹖賳鈥屬囏й屬� 禺蹖丕賳鬲 讴乇丿賴鈥屫з呚� 丕賲丕 丿乇 賱蹖爻鬲 讴鬲丕亘鈥屬囏й� 賲丨亘賵亘賲 賯乇丕乇 賲蹖鈥屫囐� 賵 禺賵丕賳丿賳卮 乇丕 亘賴 爻丕蹖乇 丿賵爻鬲丕賳賲 倬蹖卮賳賴丕丿 賲蹖鈥屭┵嗁�.
亘蹖爻鬲 賵 卮卮賲 賲賴乇賲丕賴 蹖讴鈥屬囏藏ж� 賵 趩賴丕乇氐丿
诏賮鬲丕乇 丕賳丿乇 爻鬲丕蹖卮 賳賵蹖爻賳丿賴
鬲賳賴丕蹖蹖 倬乇 賴蹖丕賴賵貙 亘乇丕蹖 賲賳 毓賳賵丕賳蹖 賳丕卮賳丕禺鬲賴 丕夭 賳賵蹖爻賳丿賴鈥屫й� 賳丕丌卮賳丕 亘賵丿 賵 丕蹖賳 賱胤賮 亘蹖讴乇丕賳 丿賵爻鬲 賳丕夭賳蹖賳賲 亘賵丿 讴賴 讴鬲丕亘 乇丕 亘賴 賲賳 賴丿蹖賴 丿丕丿 鬲丕 賱匕鬲 禺賵丕賳丿賳卮 賳氐蹖亘賲 诏乇丿丿.
丕毓鬲乇丕賮 賲蹖鈥屭┵嗁� 賵賯鬲蹖 丿乇 氐賮丨賴鈥屰� 賳禺爻鬲 亘丕 鬲毓乇蹖賮鈥� 賵 鬲賲噩蹖丿鈥屬囏й� 噩丕賳丕賳賴鈥屰� 芦賲蹖賱丕賳 讴賵賳丿乇丕禄 賵 賳卮乇蹖丕鬲 賲毓鬲亘乇賽 诏丕乇丿蹖賳貙 鬲丕蹖賲夭 賵 賱爻鈥屫①嗀勜� 鬲丕蹖賲夭 乇賵亘乇賵 卮丿賲 亘賴 禺賵丿 诏賮鬲賲 蹖丕 賳賵蹖爻賳丿賴 丿乇 賲蹖丕賳 丕蹖賳 鬲毓丕乇蹖賮 丿賮賳 禺賵丕賴丿 卮丿 蹖丕 丕賵 蹖讴 卮丕賴讴丕乇 禺賱賯 讴乇丿賴 賵 丿乇 丕賳鬲賴丕 亘賴 丕蹖賳 賳鬲蹖噩賴 乇爻蹖丿賲 讴賴 丕賵 丨賯蹖賯鬲丕 卮丕蹖爻鬲賴鈥屰� 丕蹖賳 鬲毓丕乇蹖賮 亘賵丿賴 丕爻鬲.
卮賴乇丿丕乇 卮賴乇 賲丨賱 爻讴賵賳鬲 賴乇丕亘丕賱 丿乇 賵氐賮卮 賲蹖鈥屭堐屫�:
"賴賲賴鈥屰� 賲丕 丕夭 卮賳蹖丿賳 氐丿丕蹖 賲丕卮蹖賳 鬲丨乇蹖乇 丕賵 丿乇 诏匕乇 丕夭 亘乇丕亘乇 倬賳噩乇賴鈥屰� 禺丕賳賴鈥屫ж� 卮丕丿 賲蹖鈥屫簇屬� 賵 亘賴 賯賵賱 賴乇丕亘丕賱 賲蹖鈥屭佖屬�: 芦禺賵亘 丕爻鬲. 丿丕乇丿 賲蹖鈥屬嗁堐屫池�. 倬爻 賴賳賵夭 夭賳丿賴 丕爻鬲!禄... 丕賵 丿乇 賵丕賯毓 賳賲乇丿賴 丕爻鬲貙 賮賯胤 丿蹖诏乇 賳賲蹖鈥屬嗁堐屫池�."
倬乇賵丕囟丨 丕爻鬲 讴賴 賴乇丕亘丕賱 賳賵卮鬲賳 乇丕 亘賱丿 亘賵丿貙 胤賳夭 乇丕 賲蹖鈥屫促嗀ж� 賵 乇賵蹖 丕賮讴丕乇卮 亘賴 噩賴鬲 丕賳鬲賯丕賱 亘賴 讴丕睾匕 鬲爻賱胤 讴丕賲賱 丿丕卮鬲 賵 丕蹖賳 趩賳蹖锟斤拷 丕爻鬲 讴賴 鬲賵丕賳爻鬲賴 趩賳蹖賳 丕孬乇蹖 禺賱賯 賳賲丕蹖丿.
诏賮鬲丕乇 丕賳丿乇 爻鬲丕蹖卮 賲鬲乇噩賲
丿乇 丕蹖賳 鬲乇蹖亘賵賳 賱丕夭賲 賲蹖鈥屫з嗁� 亘禺丕胤乇 賲賯丿賲賴鈥屰� 亘丕卮讴賵賴蹖 讴賴 丌賯丕蹖 芦倬乇賵蹖夭 丿賵丕卅蹖禄 亘乇丕蹖 賲毓乇賮蹖 賳賵蹖爻賳丿賴 賳賵卮鬲賴鈥屫з嗀� 夭丨賲丕鬲蹖 讴賴 亘乇丕蹖 鬲乇噩賲賴 讴卮蹖丿賴鈥屫з嗀� 賵 賴賲趩賳蹖賳 毓卮賯 賵 丕丨鬲乇丕賲蹖 讴賴 亘賴 賳賵蹖爻賳丿賴鈥屰� 賲丨亘賵亘 禺賵丿 丕亘乇丕夭 丿丕卮鬲賴鈥屫з嗀� 氐賲蹖賲丕賳賴 鬲卮讴乇 賳賲丕蹖賲 賵 亘賴 丕丨鬲乇丕賲 丕蹖卮丕賳 讴賱丕賴 丕夭 爻乇 亘乇丿丕乇賲.
丿乇 亘禺卮蹖 丕夭 賲賯丿賲賴 丕夭 夭亘丕賳 賲鬲乇噩賲 賲蹖鈥屫堌з嗃屬�:
"倬丕爻禺蹖 賴賲 亘賴 丿賵爻鬲丕賳 賵 禺賵丕賳賳丿诏丕賳 丿賵乇 賵 賳夭丿蹖讴賲 賲丿蹖賵賳賲 讴賴 丕夭 丕蹖賳 亘賳丿賴 禺賵丕爻鬲賴鈥� 亘賵丿賳丿 讴賴 亘賴 爻乇丕睾 丌孬丕乇 丿蹖诏乇 丕蹖賳 賳賵蹖爻賳丿賴 亘乇賵賲. 賲鬲丕爻賮賲! 亘噩夭 丕蹖賳 讴鬲丕亘 賴乇丕亘丕賱 讴賴 毓乇囟 卮丿貙 讴賴 亘賴 賳馗乇 賳丕賯丿丕賳 賵 禺亘乇诏丕賳 趩讴 亘賴鬲乇蹖賳 丕孬乇 丕賵爻鬲貙 賵 賳蹖夭 亘蹖芦囟乇乇鬲乇蹖賳禄卮丕賳 亘乇丕蹖 毓乇囟賴 丿乇 亘丕夭丕乇 賳卮乇 丕賲乇賵夭 爻乇夭賲蹖賳 賲丕貙 鬲乇噩賲賴鈥屬� 爻丕蹖乇 丌孬丕乇 丕賵(讴賴 亘乇丕蹖 賮乇賴賳诏 丿蹖诏乇蹖 賳賵卮鬲賴 卮丿賴 丕爻鬲) 丿乇 卮乇丕蹖胤 賱夭賵賲 丿禺丕賱鬲 賵 丿爻鬲讴丕乇蹖鈥屬囏й屰� 乇丕 丕賯鬲囟丕 賲蹖鈥屭┵嗀� 讴賴 丕蹖賳 亘賳丿賴 丿乇 賲賵乇丿 禺賵蹖卮 亘賴鈥� 禺氐賵氐 丿乇 丨賯 趩賳蹖賳 賳賵蹖爻賳丿賴鈥屫й� 丌賳鈥屫必� 賲胤賱賯丕 乇賵丕 賳賲蹖鈥屫ж必�. 丿蹖诏乇丕賳 丿乇 賲賵乇丿 鬲乇噩賲賴鈥屰� 丌孬丕乇 賳賵蹖爻賳丿诏丕賳 丿蹖诏乇 趩賳蹖賳 讴乇丿賴鈥屫з嗀� 賵 賲蹖鈥屭┵嗁嗀�. 亘讴賳賳丿!"
丕賲蹖丿賵丕乇賲 丕蹖賳 毓卮賯 賵 丕丨鬲乇丕賲 賵 丨賮馗 丨賯賵賯 賳賵蹖爻賳丿賴貙 爻乇賱賵丨賴鈥屰� 鬲賲丕賲 賲鬲乇噩賲丕賳 噩丿蹖丿 賵 賯丿蹖賲蹖 讴卮賵乇賲 賯乇丕乇 诏蹖乇丿 賵 亘賴 禺氐賵氐 亘乇丕蹖 亘丕乇 n丕賲 丕夭 賲鬲乇噩賲蹖賳 賵 賳丕卮乇蹖賳 丌孬丕乇 賲賵乇丕讴丕賲蹖 毓夭蹖夭賲 丿乇 丕蹖乇丕賳 禺賵丕賴卮 賲蹖鈥屭┵嗁� 亘噩丕蹖 丌賵蹖夭丕賳 卮丿賳 丕夭 丌賱鬲 賲賵乇丕讴丕賲蹖 亘賴 噩賴鬲 鬲丨氐蹖賱 賲丕賱 丕夭 乇丕賴 賳丕賲卮乇賵毓 賵 賱诏丿賲丕賱 讴乇丿賳 丨賯賵賯 賳賵蹖爻賳丿賴 亘賴 爻亘亘 毓丿賲 乇毓丕蹖鬲 賯賵丕賳蹖賳 讴倬蹖 乇丕蹖鬲 賵 鬲讴賴 鬲讴賴 讴乇丿賳 丌孬丕乇 賵 趩丕倬 丌賳 亘丕 鬲乇噩賲賴鈥屬囏й� 囟毓蹖賮 鬲丨鬲 賳丕賲鈥屬囏й� 賲賳 丿乇丌賵乇丿蹖 禺賵丿丿丕乇蹖 賳賲丕蹖賳丿貙 丕賲蹖丿賵丕乇賲 丕蹖賳 乇賮鬲丕乇 丨乇賮賴鈥屫й� 丌賯丕蹖 倬乇賵蹖夭 丿賵丕卅蹖 鬲賱賳诏乇蹖 亘丕卮丿 亘乇 倬蹖讴乇賴鈥屰� 賳丕丕賴賱丕賳 氐賳毓鬲 趩丕倬 賵 賳卮乇 丿乇 丕蹖乇丕賳!
诏賮鬲丕乇 丕賳丿乇 丿丕爻鬲丕賳 讴鬲丕亘
丿丕爻鬲丕賳 讴鬲丕亘 丿乇 賴卮鬲 賮氐賱 賳诏丕乇卮 卮丿賴 賵 芦賴丕賳鬲丕禄 卮禺氐蹖鬲 丕賵賱 丿丕爻鬲丕賳 丕爻鬲.
賴丕賳鬲丕 爻蹖 賵 倬賳噩 爻丕賱賴貙 鬲丨氐蹖賱 讴乇丿賴 賵 毓丕卮賯 讴鬲丕亘 賵 讴鬲丕亘鈥屫堌з嗃屸€屫池� 丕賲丕 卮睾賱卮 禺賲蹖乇 讴乇丿賳 讴鬲丕亘鈥屬囏ж池� 賵 丕夭 蹖丕賮鬲賳 亘乇禺蹖 讴鬲丕亘鈥屬囏й� 賳丕蹖丕亘 賵 賲賵乇丿毓賱丕賯賴鈥屫ж� 讴賱讴爻蹖賵賳蹖 賳丕亘 亘乇丕蹖 禺賵丿 诏乇丿丌賵乇蹖 讴乇丿賴 賵 亘賴 卮讴賱 亘爻蹖丕乇 噩匕丕亘 丕夭 鬲噩丕乇亘卮貙 卮丕丿蹖鈥屬囏й屫簇� 賱乇夭蹖丿賳 丿賱卮貙 睾賲鈥屬囏й屫� 賵 ... 賲蹖鈥屭堐屫�.
鬲讴賳蹖讴貙 芦亘賴 丿乇 亘诏賵 丿蹖賵丕乇 亘卮賳賵賴禄鈥� 讴賴 鬲讴賳蹖讴 賲乇爻賵賲 賳賵蹖爻賳丿诏丕賳蹖鈥屫池� 讴賴 丌夭丕丿蹖 毓賲賱 噩賴鬲 賳賵卮鬲賳 賳丿丕卮鬲賳丿 賵 丌蹖賳賴鈥屰� 鬲賲丕賲 賳賲丕蹖 丌賳 乇丕 芦賲乇卮丿 賵 賲丕乇诏丕乇蹖鬲丕禄 丕夭 亘賵賱诏丕讴賮 賲蹖鈥屫з嗁� 丿乇 丕蹖賳 讴鬲丕亘 倬乇乇賳诏 亘賵丿貙 賴乇丕亘丕賱 丿乇 賯丕賱亘 噩賲賱賴鈥屬囏й� 亘賴 馗丕賴乇 爻丕丿賴鈥屫ж� 亘賴 乇禺丿丕丿賴丕蹖 爻蹖丕爻蹖 賵 丕噩鬲賲丕毓蹖 丿賵乇丕賳 禺賵丿 賳蹖夭 丕卮丕乇賴 丿丕卮鬲.
賳賯賱鈥屬傎堎� 賳丕賲賴
"鬲賲丕賲 丌賳趩賴 丕夭 蹖讴 賮乇丿 亘卮乇蹖 亘丕賯蹖 賲蹖鈥屬呚з嗀� 诏賵诏乇丿蹖 丕爻鬲 讴賴 噩毓亘賴鈥屰� 讴亘乇蹖鬲蹖 乇丕 讴賮丕蹖鬲 讴賳丿 賵 丌賴賳蹖 讴賴 亘鬲賵丕賳丿 亘丕 丌賳 賲蹖禺蹖 爻丕禺鬲 讴賴 丕賳爻丕賳 亘鬲賵丕賳丿 丕夭 丌賳 禺賵丿 乇丕 丨賱賯鈥屫①堐屫� 爻丕夭丿."
"賵賯鬲蹖 卮乇賵毓 亘賴 禺賵丕賳丿賳 賲蹖鈥屭┵嗁� 亘賴 毓丕賱賲 丿蹖诏乇蹖 賮乇賵 賲蹖鈥屫辟堎呚� 丿乇 賲鬲賳 睾乇賯 賲蹖鈥屫促堎�. 禺賵丿賲 丨蹖乇鬲 賲蹖鈥屭┵嗁� 賵 亘丕蹖丿 诏賳丕賴讴丕乇丕賳賴 丕毓鬲乇丕賮 讴賳賲 讴賴 賵丕賯毓丕 丿乇 毓丕賱賲 乇賵蹖丕 亘賵丿賲貙 丿乇 丿賳蹖丕蹖蹖 夭蹖亘丕鬲乇貙鈥� 丿乇 賯賱亘 丨賯蹖賯鬲貙 賴乇 乇賵夭貙鈥� 乇賵夭蹖 丿賴 亘丕乇貙鈥� 丕夭 丕蹖賳讴賴 丕夭 禺賵丿賲 趩賳蹖賳 亘賴 丿賵乇 丕賮鬲丕丿賴 亘賵丿賲貙 睾乇賯 丕毓噩丕亘 賲蹖鈥屫促堎�."
"丨丕賱丕 賲蹖鈥屬佡囐呟屫� 讴賴 乇賲亘賵 丨賯 丿丕卮鬲 讴賴 诏賮賳: 芦噩賳诏賽鈥� 乇賵丨 賴賲丕賳鈥屬傌� 賵丨卮鬲賳丕讴 丕爻鬲 讴賴 噩賳诏 賲爻賱丨丕賳賴禄貙 丨丕賱丕 賲賮賴賵賲 賵丕賯毓蹖 丕蹖賳 讴賱丕賲 亘蹖鈥屫必呚з嗁団€屰� 賲爻蹖丨 乇丕 丿乇 賲蹖鈥屰屫з佖� 讴賴 芦亘乇丕蹖鬲丕賳 氐賱丨 賳蹖丕賵乇丿賴鈥屫з呚屸€屫促呚篡屫� 丌賵乇丿賴鈥屫з�.禄"
讴丕乇賳丕賲赖
丕毓鬲乇丕賮 賲蹖鈥屭┵嗁� 倬蹖卮 丕夭 賮氐賱 賳賴丕蹖蹖 讴鬲丕亘 亘賴 爻賴 蹖丕 趩賴丕乇 爻鬲丕乇賴 賮讴乇 賲蹖鈥屭┴必� 丕賲丕 倬爻 丕夭 倬丕蹖丕賳 讴鬲丕亘 讴賴 卮丿蹖丿丕 鬲卮賳賴 卮丿賴 亘賵丿賲 賵 囟乇亘丕賳 賯賱亘賲 亘丕賱丕 乇賮鬲賴 亘賵丿 亘賴 趩賴丕乇 蹖丕 倬賳噩 爻鬲丕乇賴 丕賲丕 丨丕賱丕 讴賴 囟乇亘丕賳 賯賱亘賲 亘賴 乇蹖鬲賲 賲毓賲賵賱 禺賵丿 亘丕夭诏卮鬲賴 賵 鬲卮賳诏蹖 禺賵丿 乇丕 乇賮毓 賳賲賵丿賴鈥屫з� 趩賴丕乇 爻鬲丕乇賴 亘乇丕蹖卮 賲賳馗賵乇 賲蹖鈥屭┵嗁� 趩賵賳 丕诏乇 亘乇丕蹖 丕蹖賳 讴鬲丕亘 倬賳噩 爻鬲丕乇賴 賲賳馗賵乇 讴賳賲 亘賴 賱蹖爻鬲 亘賴鬲乇蹖賳鈥屬囏й屬� 禺蹖丕賳鬲 讴乇丿賴鈥屫з呚� 丕賲丕 丿乇 賱蹖爻鬲 讴鬲丕亘鈥屬囏й� 賲丨亘賵亘賲 賯乇丕乇 賲蹖鈥屫囐� 賵 禺賵丕賳丿賳卮 乇丕 亘賴 爻丕蹖乇 丿賵爻鬲丕賳賲 倬蹖卮賳賴丕丿 賲蹖鈥屭┵嗁�.
亘蹖爻鬲 賵 卮卮賲 賲賴乇賲丕賴 蹖讴鈥屬囏藏ж� 賵 趩賴丕乇氐丿
January 5, 2025
"脡 em v茫o que todos os inquisidores do mundo queimam livros, pois quando um deles cont茅m algo de v谩lido, o seu riso silencioso persiste mesmo no meio das chamas, porque o significado de um livro verdadeiro vai sempre para al茅m dele."
Como come莽ar a escrever sobre este livro? Para j谩, adoro este t铆tulo, acho-o mesmo muito bonito e adorei como foi aparecendo ao longo da hist贸ria.
'Uma solid茫o demasiado ruidosa' foi dos melhores livros que li este ano, uma aut锚ntica surpresa e um aut锚ntico murro no est么mago. Cara莽as!
Hrabal conta-nos a hist贸ria de Ha艌ta que, durante 35 anos, prensou e destruiu livros no subsolo de Praga, ao mesmo tempo que resgatava milhares de exemplares e enchia todos os cantos da casa com os seus preferidos. Este livro foi censurado na Rep煤blica Checa e 茅 essencialmente sobre o poder da mem贸ria e da palavra, especialmente em tempos de opress茫o.
Sublinhei tanto, tanto, tanto este livro... 脡 t茫o especial que me custa a explicar. 脡 um livro pequeno - tem 143 p谩ginas -, mas enorme no seu significado. Fez-me lembrar 'Stoner', um livro em que n茫o acontece nada de especial, mas que, ainda assim, 茅 t茫o bonito. T茫o po茅tico. T茫o simples.
Terminei o livro ontem, mas ainda me faltam as palavras e duvido que algum dia encontre aquelas que fa莽am justi莽a 脿 beleza deste livro.
脡 daqueles livros que se acaba e s贸 d谩 vontade de ficar abra莽ada a ele. Vai ficar na mem贸ria e tenho a certeza que, de tempos a tempos, vou querer voltar a pegar nele, reler algumas passagens e revisitar o velho Ha艌ta.
"O C茅u n茫o 茅 humano, mas naquela 茅poca eu ainda o era."
Como come莽ar a escrever sobre este livro? Para j谩, adoro este t铆tulo, acho-o mesmo muito bonito e adorei como foi aparecendo ao longo da hist贸ria.
'Uma solid茫o demasiado ruidosa' foi dos melhores livros que li este ano, uma aut锚ntica surpresa e um aut锚ntico murro no est么mago. Cara莽as!
Hrabal conta-nos a hist贸ria de Ha艌ta que, durante 35 anos, prensou e destruiu livros no subsolo de Praga, ao mesmo tempo que resgatava milhares de exemplares e enchia todos os cantos da casa com os seus preferidos. Este livro foi censurado na Rep煤blica Checa e 茅 essencialmente sobre o poder da mem贸ria e da palavra, especialmente em tempos de opress茫o.
Sublinhei tanto, tanto, tanto este livro... 脡 t茫o especial que me custa a explicar. 脡 um livro pequeno - tem 143 p谩ginas -, mas enorme no seu significado. Fez-me lembrar 'Stoner', um livro em que n茫o acontece nada de especial, mas que, ainda assim, 茅 t茫o bonito. T茫o po茅tico. T茫o simples.
Terminei o livro ontem, mas ainda me faltam as palavras e duvido que algum dia encontre aquelas que fa莽am justi莽a 脿 beleza deste livro.
脡 daqueles livros que se acaba e s贸 d谩 vontade de ficar abra莽ada a ele. Vai ficar na mem贸ria e tenho a certeza que, de tempos a tempos, vou querer voltar a pegar nele, reler algumas passagens e revisitar o velho Ha艌ta.
"O C茅u n茫o 茅 humano, mas naquela 茅poca eu ainda o era."
November 19, 2017
毓夭賱丞 氐丕禺亘丞 噩丿丕.....亘賵賴賵賲賷賱 賴乇丕亘丕賱
賱賲丕匕丕 丕賱毓賱丕賲丞 丕賱賰丕賲賱丞 賵兀賳丕 丕賱爻丕禺胤 毓賱賶 賰賱 卮卅貙 賵賱丕 卮卅 賷毓噩亘賳賷責
兀賱兀賳 丕賱毓賲賱 賱賲爻 卮卅 丿賮賷賳 賮賷 乇賵丨賷貙 兀賳 兀賳賴 賳氐 毓馗賷賲 賮毓賱丕責 賱賳丐噩賱 賰鬲丕亘丞 賲胤賵賱丞 毓賳 賴匕丕 丕賱毓賲賱 賵 賳賰鬲賮賷 亘丕賱賯賵賱 兀賳賴丕 乇賵丕賷丞 鬲賯乇兀 賵鬲賯乇兀 廿賱賶 兀賳 賳丨賮馗賴丕 噩賲賷毓丕.
賱賲丕匕丕 丕賱毓賱丕賲丞 丕賱賰丕賲賱丞 賵兀賳丕 丕賱爻丕禺胤 毓賱賶 賰賱 卮卅貙 賵賱丕 卮卅 賷毓噩亘賳賷責
兀賱兀賳 丕賱毓賲賱 賱賲爻 卮卅 丿賮賷賳 賮賷 乇賵丨賷貙 兀賳 兀賳賴 賳氐 毓馗賷賲 賮毓賱丕責 賱賳丐噩賱 賰鬲丕亘丞 賲胤賵賱丞 毓賳 賴匕丕 丕賱毓賲賱 賵 賳賰鬲賮賷 亘丕賱賯賵賱 兀賳賴丕 乇賵丕賷丞 鬲賯乇兀 賵鬲賯乇兀 廿賱賶 兀賳 賳丨賮馗賴丕 噩賲賷毓丕.
September 25, 2021
"the world is not humane and neither is the life above me and below me nor within me"
This clearly is a much more mature Hrabal speaking here than in his early : this booklet is more elaborate, more condense, full of literary references, but above all even much more gloomy and surreal. While in the former story the young protagonist could find some solace in a (questionable) act of heroism, the latter ends with a very intense, tragic and at the same time beautifully symbolic curse of protagonist Ha艌t谩 directed at dehumanized society. The enchanting irony of this book is that of all people Hrabal chose a 'professional book compresser' (鈥渢hirty-five years I compress old paper and books鈥�) to confront us with this dehumanization: Ha艌t谩 grinds/crushes/compresses the books into old bales, but he also cherishes those books, extracts the best and most beautiful of them out of the pile, cites Kant, Rimbaud and Hegel, and decorates the bales of old paper with beautiful covers of art books. Moreover, Ha艌t谩 simultaneously is a manual worker, an artist-intellectual and, through his journeys through the sewers of Prague, also a connoisseur of the seamy side of modern society. His descriptions are (involuntarily?) reminiscent of the Kafka of the 'Metamorphosis' and 'The Penal Colony', although that may be too obvious a comparison; perhaps Piranesi's darkest work is a better reference. The clever thing is also that Hrabal evokes a whole, drowsy world in just over 90 pages and adds a striking, dramatic point to it, a settlement with the blind-mechanising, disenchanted world. To me this is one of the darkest novels of the 20th century.
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This clearly is a much more mature Hrabal speaking here than in his early : this booklet is more elaborate, more condense, full of literary references, but above all even much more gloomy and surreal. While in the former story the young protagonist could find some solace in a (questionable) act of heroism, the latter ends with a very intense, tragic and at the same time beautifully symbolic curse of protagonist Ha艌t谩 directed at dehumanized society. The enchanting irony of this book is that of all people Hrabal chose a 'professional book compresser' (鈥渢hirty-five years I compress old paper and books鈥�) to confront us with this dehumanization: Ha艌t谩 grinds/crushes/compresses the books into old bales, but he also cherishes those books, extracts the best and most beautiful of them out of the pile, cites Kant, Rimbaud and Hegel, and decorates the bales of old paper with beautiful covers of art books. Moreover, Ha艌t谩 simultaneously is a manual worker, an artist-intellectual and, through his journeys through the sewers of Prague, also a connoisseur of the seamy side of modern society. His descriptions are (involuntarily?) reminiscent of the Kafka of the 'Metamorphosis' and 'The Penal Colony', although that may be too obvious a comparison; perhaps Piranesi's darkest work is a better reference. The clever thing is also that Hrabal evokes a whole, drowsy world in just over 90 pages and adds a striking, dramatic point to it, a settlement with the blind-mechanising, disenchanted world. To me this is one of the darkest novels of the 20th century.
August 20, 2019
|賳賴 丿乇 丌爻賲丕賳賴丕 賳卮丕賳蹖 丕夭 毓胤賵賮鬲 丕爻鬲 賵 賳賴 丿乇 賵噩賵丿 丌丿賲蹖夭丕丿 丿賵 倬丕|
|賳賴! 賳賴 丿乇 丌爻賲丕賳賴丕 賳卮丕賳蹖 丕夭 乇兀賮鬲 賵 毓胤賵賮鬲 賵噩賵丿 丿丕乇丿貙 賳賴 丿乇 夭賳丿诏蹖 亘丕賱丕蹖 爻乇 賵 賳賴 夭蹖乇 倬丕蹖 賲丕 賵 賳賴 丿乇 丿乇賵賳 賲賳.|
亘蹖 乇丨賲蹖貙 爻乇丿蹖 賵 賳亘賵丿 毓丕胤賮賴貨 趩蹖夭蹖爻鬲 讴賴 賳氐蹖亘 賴丕賳鬲丕 (卮禺氐蹖鬲 丕氐賱蹖 讴鬲丕亘) 丿乇 夭賳丿诏蹖 卮丿賴 丕爻鬲. 賲賵噩賵丿蹖 丨爻丕爻 賵 馗乇蹖賮 讴賴 亘賴 毓卮賯貙 亘賴 夭蹖亘丕蹖蹖貙 亘賴 毓胤賵賮鬲 丕賲蹖丿 丿丕卮鬲貙 丕賲丕 夭賳丿诏蹖 亘賴 丕賵 丌賲賵禺鬲 讴賴 噩賴丕賳 趩蹖夭蹖 噩夭 亘蹖 賲賴乇蹖 賵 丿乇丿 賳蹖爻鬲貨 卮丕蹖丿 亘賴 賴賲蹖賳 丿賱蹖賱 賴賲 賴爻鬲 讴賴 丿乇 噩丕蹖 噩丕蹖 讴鬲丕亘 噩賲賱丕鬲蹖 丕蹖賳 趩賳蹖賳 賵噩賵丿 丿丕乇丿.
鬲賳賴丕 賴賳诏丕賲蹖 讴賴 賴丕賳鬲丕 丿丕爻鬲丕賳 禺賵丿 賵 毓卮賯卮貙 丿禺鬲乇讴蹖 讴賵賱蹖貙 乇丕 鬲毓乇蹖賮 賲蹖 讴乇丿貙 诏賲丕賳 讴乇丿賲 讴賴 丌乇蹖 賴乇丕亘丕賱 亘賴 毓卮賯 丕蹖賲丕賳 丿丕乇丿 賵 丕蹖賳讴賴 丿乇賳賴丕蹖鬲 毓卮賯 賮乇噩丕賲蹖 丿丕乇丿 ... 亘賴 賴賲蹖賳 爻亘亘 丿乇 丿賮鬲乇趩蹅 蹖丕丿丿丕卮鬲賲 賳賵卮鬲賲 讴賴 趩賴 夭蹖亘丕爻鬲 毓卮賯 丿禺鬲乇讴 讴賵賱蹖 賵 賴丕賳鬲丕蹖 鬲賳賴丕 亘賴 蹖讴丿蹖诏乇 ... 毓丕卮賯 賵 賲毓卮賵賯蹖 讴賴 鬲賵賯毓蹖 噩夭 毓卮賯 丕夭 賴賲 賳丿丕乇賳丿 ... 鬲丕 丨丿蹖 讴賴 賳賴 丿禺鬲乇讴 賳丕賲 賴丕賳鬲丕 乇丕 賲蹖 丿丕賳丿 賵 賳賴 賴丕賳鬲丕 賳丕賲 丿禺鬲乇讴 乇丕... 賵 亘乇诏蹖 鬲賲丕賲 丿乇 爻鬲丕蹖卮 毓卮賯卮丕賳 賵 噩夭卅蹖丕鬲卮 賵 禺賵卮蹖賴丕蹖卮 賳賵卮鬲賲! 亘毓丿 丕夭 丌賳 丕丿丕賲賴 丿丕丿賲 亘賴 禺賵丕賳丿賳 賵 丿蹖丿賲 讴賴 趩賴 亘乇 爻乇 毓卮賯卮丕賳 丌賲丿 ... 賲鬲賵噩賴 卮丿賲 讴賴 毓卮賯 賳蹖夭 亘賴丕賳賴 丕蹖 亘賵丿 亘乇丕蹖 賳卮丕賳 丿丕丿賳 爻乇丿蹖貙 賳丕賲賴乇亘丕賳蹖 賵 亘蹖 乇賵丨蹖 丕蹖賳 夭賳丿诏蹖. 賴丕賳鬲丕 丿乇 丕賳鬲賴丕蹖 鬲毓乇蹖賮 賲乇丿賳 丿丕爻鬲丕賳卮 毓卮賯卮 亘賴 丿禺鬲乇讴 讴賵賱蹖 賲蹖 诏賵蹖丿:
|賳賴貙 丌爻賲丕賳 毓丕胤賮賴 賳丿丕乇丿貙 賵賱蹖 丕丨鬲賲丕賱丕 趩蹖夭蹖 亘丕賱丕鬲乇 丕夭 丌爻賲丕賳 賵噩賵丿 丿丕乇丿 讴賴 毓卮賯 賵 卮賮賯鬲 丕爻鬲貙 趩蹖夭蹖 讴賴 賲丿鬲賴丕爻鬲 讴賴 丌賳 乇丕 丕夭 蹖丕丿 亘乇丿賴 丕賲.|
禺爻鬲诏蹖 賵 讴賵賮鬲诏蹖 匕賴賳賲
亘丕 倬丕蹖丕賳 讴鬲丕亘貙 丿蹖丿賲 讴賴 賳丕蹖蹖 丿乇 亘丿賳賲 亘丕賯蹖 賳賲丕賳丿賴 丕爻鬲貨 禺爻鬲蹅 禺爻鬲賴貙 鬲賲丕賲 亘丿賳賲 讴賵賮鬲賴 卮丿賴 亘賵丿. 诏賵蹖蹖 丨噩賲蹖 毓馗蹖賲 亘乇 丕賳丿丕賲賲 爻賳诏蹖賳蹖 賲蹖 讴乇丿. 丌賳 趩賳丕賳 丕夭 噩賲賱丕鬲 賴乇丕亘丕賱 賲鬲兀孬乇 卮丿賴 亘賵丿賲 讴賴 賲孬賱 賴丕賳鬲丕 賵賯鬲蹖 讴賴 趩賳丿蹖賳 爻亘賵 丌亘噩賵 丿乇 夭蹖乇夭賲蹖賳卮 賳賵卮蹖丿賴 亘賵丿貙 賲噩亘賵乇 卮丿賲 趩賴丕乇 丿爻鬲 賵 倬丕 乇丕賴 亘乇賵賳 賵 禺賵丿賲 乇丕 亘賴 鬲禺鬲賲 亘乇爻丕賳賲. 丕賮讴丕乇賲 丿乇亘丕乇蹅 丿丕爻鬲丕賳貙 丿乇 匕賴賳賲 乇跇賴 賲蹖 乇賮鬲賳丿 賵 诏賵蹖蹖 噩丕丿賵 卮丿賴 亘賵丿賲貨 亘丕 賯氐蹅 賴丕賳鬲丕 賵 毓卮賯 賯丿蹖賲蹖卮貙 賲丕乇蹖丕貙 賲蹖 禺賳丿蹖丿賲 賵 亘丕 丿丕爻鬲丕賳 讴鬲丕亘賴丕 賵 賲毓卮賵賯 讴賵賱蹖 丕卮 趩卮賲丕賳賲 禺蹖爻 賲蹖 卮丿. 賵賯鬲蹖 賲丕丿乇賲 亘蹖丿丕乇賲 讴乇丿貙 倬乇爻蹖丿 讴賴 趩乇丕 乇賵蹖 讴鬲丕亘 亘蹖趩丕乇賴 禺賵丕亘 乇賮鬲賴 丕賲責! 讴賴 卮丕蹖丿 讴鬲丕亘 乇丕 賱賴 賲蹖 讴乇丿賲貨 睾丕賮賱 丕夭 丕蹖賳讴賴 丕蹖賳 賵夭賳 爻賳诏蹖賳 噩賲賱丕鬲 讴鬲丕亘 丕爻鬲 讴賴 丿丕乇丿 賲賳 乇丕 夭蹖乇 禺賵丿卮 賱賴 賲蹖 讴賳丿 ... 賳丕亘賵丿 賲蹖 讴賳丿! 夭蹖乇丕 讴賴 賴乇丕亘丕賱 禺賵丿 亘賴 賳賯賱 丕夭 鬲賵乇丕鬲 賲蹖 诏賵蹖丿: 芦賲丕 賴賲趩賵賳 丿丕賳賴 賴丕蹖 夭蹖鬲賵賳蹖 賴爻鬲蹖賲 讴賴 鬲賳賴丕 賴賳诏丕賲蹖 噩賵賴乇 禺賵丿 乇丕 亘乇賵夭 賲蹖 丿賴蹖賲 讴賴 丿乇賴賲 卮讴爻鬲賴 卮賵蹖賲禄. 亘賴 丕蹖賳 丕毓鬲賯丕丿 丿丕乇丿 讴賴:
鬲丕 讴丕賲賱丕 丕夭 倬丕 丿乇賳蹖丕賲丿賴 丕蹖賲貙 噩賵賴乇 賵丕賯毓蹖 禺賵丿 乇丕 亘乇賵夭 賳賲蹖 丿賴蹖賲.
亘賴 賴賲蹖賳 爻亘亘貙 亘丕 丿丕爻鬲丕賳卮貙 禺賵丕賳賳丿賴 乇丕 賲蹖 卮讴賳丿 賵 禺乇丿 賲蹖 讴賳丿貙 賲孬賱 夭賳丿诏蹖貨 鬲丕 卮丕蹖丿 丕賳丿讴蹖 丕夭 噩賵賴乇 賵丕賯毓蹖賲丕賳 乇丕 丕夭 賵噩賵丿賲丕賳 亘蹖乇賵賳 讴卮丿 賵 亘賴 賲丕 賳卮丕賳 丿賴丿. 丕賵 賲蹖 丿丕賳丿 讴賴 亘乇丕蹖 爻丕禺鬲賳貙 亘丕蹖丿 禺乇丕亘 讴乇丿 賵 亘乇丕蹖 禺乇丕亘 讴乇丿賳貙 亘丕蹖丿 爻丕禺鬲. 亘賳丕亘乇丕蹖賳貙 亘賴 禺賵丕賳賳丿賴 丕卮 賲蹖 诏賵蹖丿 讴賴 賳丕亘賵丿 卮賵 鬲丕 亘丿丕賳蹖 讴賴 趩賴 丿乇 丿乇賵賳鬲 丕爻鬲貙 賲孬賱 卮禺氐蹖鬲 丿丕爻鬲丕賳卮貙 賴丕賳鬲丕!
鬲賳賴丕蹖蹖 倬乇 賴蹖丕賴賵
賳丕賲 讴鬲丕亘 乇丕 亘賴 夭亘丕賳 丕賳诏賱蹖爻蹖 倬蹖丿丕 讴乇丿賲 讴賴 鬲乇噩賲賴 丕卮 芦蹖讴 鬲賳賴丕蹖蹖 亘爻蹖丕乇 亘賱賳丿禄 賲蹖 卮丿貨 亘賱賳丿 賴賲 丕蹖賳噩丕 賲賳馗賵乇卮 氐丿丕 亘賵丿賴貨 賴蹖丕賴賵 賴賲 讴賴 丿丕丿 賵 賮乇蹖丕丿 賲蹖 卮賵丿. 賳丕賲 夭蹖亘丕蹖蹖爻鬲 丕賲丕 賳賲蹖 丿丕賳賲 丕蹖丕 賵丕賯毓丕 亘賴 丌賳趩賴 賳丕賲 讴鬲丕亘 亘丕蹖丿 亘丕卮丿貙 丿乇 夭亘丕賳 賮丕乇爻蹖貙 賳夭丿蹖讴鬲乇蹖賳 毓賳賵丕賳 鬲賳賴丕锟斤拷蹖 倬乇 賴蹖丕賴賵爻鬲. 賴乇趩賳丿 讴賴 禺賵丿賲 賳丕賲蹖 丕夭 丕蹖賳 夭蹖亘丕鬲乇 亘賴 匕賴賳賲 賳乇爻蹖丿 丕賲丕 丕丨爻丕爻 賲蹖 讴賳賲 丨爻蹖 讴賴 亘丕 丿蹖丿賳 賳丕賲 讴鬲丕亘 诏乇賮鬲賲貙 賲鬲賮丕賵鬲 丕夭 丿丕爻鬲丕賳 亘賵丿.
賳賵蹖爻賳丿賴 爻亘讴 禺丕氐蹖 丕夭 賳賵卮鬲賳 亘乇丕蹖 禺賵丿 丿丕乇丿 讴賴 丿乇 亘蹖賳 讴鬲丕亘賴丕蹖蹖 讴賴 鬲丕 丕讴賳賵賳 禺賵丕賳丿賴 亘賵丿賲貙 亘蹖 賲孬丕賱 亘賵丿. 乇賵丕蹖鬲 亘爻蹖丕乇 爻丕丿蹅 丿丕爻鬲丕賳 丕夭 夭亘丕賳 卮禺氐蹖鬲 丕氐賱蹖貙 讴賴 倬蹖乇賲乇丿蹖 爻丕丿賴 賵 鬲賳賴丕爻鬲貙 胤賵乇蹖 讴賴 鬲賲丕賲 賵賯丕蹖毓 乇丕 丿乇 賳賴丕蹖鬲 倬丕讴蹖 賵 丨爻賳 賳蹖鬲 鬲毓乇蹖賮 賲蹖 讴賳丿貙 亘乇丕蹖賲 噩丕賱亘 亘賵丿貨 賳賵蹖爻賳丿賴 丕噩丕夭賴 賳賲蹖 丿丕丿 讴賴 賳鬲蹖噩賴 丕蹖 丿乇 匕賴賳 禺賵丕賳賳丿賴 讴丕卮鬲賴 卮賵丿 亘賱讴賴 亘丕 亘蹖丕賳 賲孬亘鬲 讴賱 賵賯丕蹖毓 丿丕爻鬲丕賳貙 禺賵丕賳賳丿賴 乇丕 賲噩丕亘 賲蹖 讴乇丿 讴賴 禺賵丿 賳鬲蹖噩賴 亘诏蹖乇丿 賵 亘蹖丕賳丿蹖卮丿貨 丕賱亘鬲賴 賲蹖 鬲賵丕賳 亘賴 讴鬲丕亘 亘賴 毓賳賵丕賳 蹖讴 丿丕爻鬲丕賳 氐乇賮 亘爻蹖丕乇 鬲乇丕跇蹖讴 賳蹖夭 賳诏丕賴 讴乇丿貙 丕賲丕 丕胤賲蹖賳丕賳 丿丕乇賲 讴賴 賳賵蹖爻賳丿賴 丕蹖 讴賴 丕蹖賳 趩賳蹖賳 丿乇 禺賱丕賱 丿丕爻鬲丕賳卮 賵 丨乇賮賴丕蹖卮 丕夭 賮賱丕爻賮賴 (賳蹖趩賴貙 賴诏賱貙 丕乇爻胤賵貙 丕賮賱丕胤賵賳貙 爻丕乇鬲乇貙 讴丕賲賵 賵 亘蹖卮鬲乇 丕夭 賴賲賴 丕夭 讴丕賳鬲) 鬲兀孬蹖乇 诏乇賮鬲賴貙 鬲賳賴丕 亘乇丕蹖 氐乇賮 亘蹖丕賳 丿丕爻鬲丕賳 賳賲蹖 賳賵蹖爻丿貨 亘賱讴賴 賲蹖 賳賵蹖爻丿 讴賴 噩賴丕賳 亘蹖賳蹖 賵 賳诏乇卮 禺賵丕賳賳丿賴 乇丕 鬲睾蹖蹖乇 亘丿賴丿 賵 丕賲蹖丿賵丕乇賲 亘乇丕蹖 賲賳 賴賲 趩賳蹖賳 亘賵丿賴 亘丕卮丿貙 賵诏乇賳賴 禺賵丕賳丿賳 賵 賳禺賵丕賳丿賳卮 鬲賵賮蹖乇蹖 賳丿丕乇丿.
亘丕 禺賵丕賳丿賳 夭賳丿诏蹖 賳丕賲賴 賵 賲賯丿賲賴 賴丕蹖蹖 讴賴 丿乇 丕亘鬲丿丕蹖 讴鬲丕亘貙 亘爻蹖丕乇 亘賴 噩丕貙 賳賵卮鬲賴 卮丿賴 丕賳丿 亘賴 乇丕丨鬲蹖 賲蹖 鬲賵丕賳 賳鬲蹖噩賴 诏乇賮鬲 讴賴 丿乇 鬲賲丕賲蹖 氐賮丨丕鬲貙 夭賳丿诏蹖 禺賵丿 賴乇丕亘丕賱 賲卮賴賵丿 丕爻鬲. 亘賴 賯賵賱 亘禺鬲蹖丕乇 毓賱蹖貙 賳賵蹖爻賳丿賴 讴爻蹖爻鬲 讴賴 丿爻鬲 禺賵丕賳賳丿賴 乇丕 亘诏蹖乇丿 賵 亘丕 賳賵卮鬲賴 賴丕蹖卮 丕賵 乇丕貙 丿乇讴賳丕乇 禺賵丿卮貙 丿乇 丌爻賲丕賳賴丕 亘賴 倬乇賵丕夭 丿乇丌賵乇丿 賳賴 丌賳讴賴 亘乇丕蹖 賮賴賲 賲禺丕胤亘卮 丕夭 倬乇賵丕夭 丿乇 丌爻賲丕賳 丿爻鬲 亘讴卮丿 賵 亘賴 倬丕蹖蹖賳 亘蹖丕蹖丿 (賳賯賱 亘賴 賲囟賲賵賳)貨 亘丕 丕蹖賳 鬲毓亘蹖乇貙 賴乇丕亘丕賱貙 讴賴 丕夭 禺賵丿卮 亘乇丕蹖 禺賵丿卮 賳賵卮鬲賴貙 讴鬲丕亘蹖 丌賳趩賳丕賳 爻亘讴 賳诏丕卮鬲賴 讴賴 讴鬲丕亘 丿乇 賴賵丕 賲毓賱賯 賲蹖 卮賵丿 賵 亘賴 爻賵蹖 丌爻賲丕賳 賲蹖 乇賵丿 賵 禺賵丕賳賳丿賴 乇丕 賳蹖夭 亘丕 禺賵丿 亘賴 丌爻賲丕賳賴丕 賲蹖 亘乇丿貨 丕賱亘鬲賴 鬲噩乇亘蹅 鬲賳賴丕蹖蹖 賳蹖夭 賲蹖 鬲賵丕賳丿 亘乇 丕蹖賳 賲爻卅賱賴 鬲兀孬蹖乇诏匕丕乇 亘丕卮丿. 賳賲蹖 卮賵丿 讴賴 丨爻 亘賵丿賳 亘丕 禺賵蹖卮鬲賳 乇丕 亘乇丕蹖 乇賵夭賴丕 鬲噩乇亘賴 賳讴乇丿賴 亘丕卮蹖貙 丿乇 賲丨賮賱 賴丕蹖 倬乇卮賵乇 鬲讴 賳賮乇賴 讴賴 丌丿賲 禺賵丿卮 亘乇丕蹖 禺賵丿卮 鬲乇鬲蹖亘 賲蹖 丿賴丿 卮乇讴鬲 賳讴乇丿賴 亘丕卮蹖貙 丿乇 丨丕賱鬲蹖 賳蹖賲賴 丌诏丕賴 丿乇 禺蹖丕亘丕賳賴丕 乇丕賴 賳乇賮鬲賴 亘丕卮蹖 賵 賳诏丕賴 毓噩蹖亘 賵 爻乇丿 丿蹖诏乇丕賳 乇丕 鬲丨賲賱 賳讴乇丿賴 亘丕卮蹖 賵 亘禺賵丕賴蹖 讴賴 讴鬲丕亘 亘乇丕蹖鬲 爻乇丕爻乇 賱匕鬲 賴賲丿乇丿蹖 賵 亘賵丿賳 鬲噩乇亘蹅 賲卮丕亘賴 乇丕 丿丕卮鬲賴 亘丕卮丿. 卮丕蹖丿 亘賴 賴賲蹖賳 爻亘亘 賴賲 亘賵丿 讴賴 賳鬲賵丕賳爻鬲賲 亘丕 亘乇禺蹖 氐賮丨丕鬲卮 丕乇鬲亘丕胤 讴丕賲賱 亘乇賯乇丕乇 讴賳賲:
賲賳 賲蹖 鬲賵丕賳賲 亘賴 禺賵丿賲 "鬲噩賲賱" 賲胤乇賵丿亘賵丿賳 乇丕 乇賵丕 亘丿丕乇賲貙 賴乇 趩賳丿 賴乇诏夭 賲胤乇賵丿 賳蹖爻鬲賲貙 賮賯胤 噩爻賲丕 鬲賳賴丕 賴爻鬲賲貙 鬲丕 亘鬲賵丕賳賲 丿乇 鬲賳賴丕蹖蹖 丕蹖 亘爻乇 亘亘乇賲 讴賴 爻丕讴賳丕賳卮 丕賳丿蹖卮賴 賴丕 賴爻鬲賳丿貙 趩賵賳 讴賴 賲賳 蹖讴 丌丿賲 亘蹖 讴賱蹅 丕夭賱蹖-丕亘丿蹖 賴爻鬲賲 賵 丕賳诏丕乇 讴賴 丕夭賱 賵 丕亘丿 丕夭 丌丿賲賴丕蹖蹖 賲孬賱 賲賳 趩賳丿丕賳 亘丿卮 賳賲蹖 丌蹖丿.
鬲賳賴丕蹖蹖 賴丕賳鬲丕 丿乇 爻乇丕爻乇 讴鬲丕亘 賲卮賴賵丿 丕爻鬲 賵 賴乇丕亘丕賱 丕夭 丌賳 亘乇丕蹖 亘蹖丕賳 賲胤丕賱亘 夭蹖亘丕蹖蹖 丕爻鬲賮丕丿賴 賲蹖 讴賳丿:
丕夭卮 禺賵丕爻鬲賲 讴賴 賲乇丕 亘亘禺卮丿. 賳賲蹖 丿丕賳爻鬲賲 亘賴 禺丕胤乇 趩賴 诏賳丕賴蹖 亘丕蹖丿 賲乇丕 賲蹖 亘禺卮蹖丿貙 賵賱蹖 爻乇賳賵卮鬲 賲賳 丕蹖賳 亘賵丿. 爻乇賳賵卮鬲 賲賳 毓匕乇 鬲賯氐蹖乇 禺賵丕爻鬲賳 丕夭 賴賲賴 亘賵丿. 賲賳 丨鬲蹖 丕夭 禺賵丿賲 賴賲 亘賴 禺丕胤乇 丌賳趩賴 亘賵丿賲貙 亘賴 禺丕胤乇 胤亘蹖毓鬲 诏乇蹖夭賳丕倬匕蹖乇賲貙 鬲賯丕囟丕蹖 亘禺卮卮 賲蹖 讴乇丿賲.
诏賵蹖蹖 鬲賯丿蹖乇 丕賳爻丕賳賴丕蹖蹖 讴賴 卮亘蹖賴 亘賯蹖賴 賳蹖爻鬲賳丿貙 趩賳蹖賳 丕爻鬲貨 丕蹖賳讴賴 亘丕蹖丿 亘禺丕胤乇 亘賵丿賳卮丕賳 丕夭 亘賯蹖賴 毓匕乇 亘禺賵丕賴賳丿. 噩賴丕賳 賵 丌丿賲蹖丕賳卮 鬲賮丕賵鬲 乇丕 亘乇賳賲蹖 鬲丕亘賳丿 賵 亘丕 丿蹖丿賳 丨丕賱卮丕賳 亘賴 賴賲 賲蹖 禺賵乇丿貨 趩賳丕賳 讴賴 賮乇丿 乇丕 賲賯氐乇 賲蹖 丿丕賳賳丿 讴賴 趩乇丕 趩賳蹖賳 賳蹖爻鬲貨 趩賳丕賳 讴賴 卮賵倬賳賴丕賵乇 賲蹖 诏賵蹖丿 亘蹖卮鬲乇 賳跇丕丿 亘卮乇 乇丕 丕丨賲賯 賴丕蹖蹖 鬲卮讴蹖賱 丿丕丿賴 丕賳丿 讴賴 鬲賳賴丕 亘丕 丕賳爻丕賳 賴丕蹖蹖 賲蹖 鬲賵丕賳賳丿 丿賲禺賵乇 卮賵賳丿 讴賴 趩賵賳 禺賵丿卮丕賳 丕丨賲賯 亘丕卮賳丿 賵 賲賴乇 鬲兀蹖蹖丿蹖 亘乇丨賲丕賯鬲卮丕賳 亘夭賳賳丿. 丕诏乇 趩賳蹖賳 賳亘丕卮丿 亘丕 丕賵 亘賴 丕讴乇丕賴 乇賮鬲丕乇 賲蹖 讴賳賳丿 賵 丨鬲蹖 亘乇丕蹖 丕卮鬲亘丕賴丕鬲 禺賵丿卮丕賳 賳蹖夭 丕賵 乇丕 賲賯氐乇 賲蹖 倬賳丿丕乇賳丿. 賴乇丕亘丕賱 賳蹖夭 丕蹖賳 乇丕 賲蹖 丿丕賳爻鬲賴 賵 亘乇丕蹖 賴賲蹖賳 卮禺氐蹖鬲蹖 乇丕 禺賱賯 讴乇丿賴 讴賴 丕蹖賳 趩賳蹖賳 鬲賳賴丕爻鬲 讴賴 丕蹖賳 乇丕 賳卮丕賳 丿賴丿貙 趩賵賳 亘丕 賴賲賴 賲鬲賮丕賵鬲 丕爻鬲.
胤毓賳賴 賴丕 賵 賳賲丕丿賴丕
賯爻賲鬲蹖 丕夭 丿丕爻鬲丕賳賴丕蹖 讴鬲丕亘 丕卮丕乇賴 亘賴 丕鬲賲爻賮乇 爻蹖丕爻蹖 丿賵乇丕賳 賲禺鬲賱賮 讴卮賵乇 趩讴 賵 丨讴丕賲蹖 讴賴 亘乇 丌賳 丨讴賲 賲蹖 讴乇丿賳丿貙 丿丕乇丿貨 亘賳丕亘乇丕蹖賳 丿丕賳爻鬲賳 噩賵 爻蹖丕爻蹖 趩讴 丿乇 賯乇賳 亘蹖爻鬲賲 卮丕蹖丿 亘乇 賮賴賲 丿丕爻鬲丕賳 賲禺氐賵氐丕 丿乇 丿丕爻鬲丕賳賴丕蹖蹖 讴賴 賴乇丕亘丕賱 丿乇 夭賲丕賳 丨丕賱 丿乇 讴鬲丕亘 賵 夭賲丕賳蹖 讴賴 亘丕 賲毓卮賵賯 讴賵賱蹖卮 亘賵丿賴貙 鬲兀孬蹖乇 亘爻夭丕蹖蹖 丿丕卮鬲賴 亘丕卮丿貨 亘乇丕蹖 賲孬丕賱 賴丕賳鬲丕 丿乇 賮氐賱 爻賵賲 讴鬲丕亘 鬲毓乇蹖賮 賲蹖 讴賳丿 讴賴 丿乇 亘丕夭丿蹖丿卮 丕夭 賮丕囟賱丕亘賴丕蹖 卮賴乇 倬乇丕诏貙 丿賵 诏乇賵賴 丕氐賱蹖 賲賵卮 亘乇 爻乇 丌卮睾丕賱賴丕 賵 賲爻丕丨鬲 賮丕囟賱丕亘賴丕 (讴賴 诏乇賵賴蹖 爻賮蹖丿 亘賵丿賴 丕賳丿 賵 诏乇賵賴蹖 賳蹖夭 禺丕讴爻鬲乇蹖!) 丿丕卅賲丕 亘丕 賴賲 丿乇 噩賳诏 亘賵丿賴 丕賳丿貨 賮乇賲丕賳丿賴丕賳卮 乇丕 丿蹖丿賴 讴賴 賳胤賯 賴丕蹖蹖 睾乇丕 丿乇亘丕乇蹅 噩賳诏 賳賴丕蹖蹖 賵 倬蹖乇賵夭蹖 爻乇 丿丕丿賴 丕賳丿 賵 丕蹖賳讴賴 丿乇 賳賴丕蹖鬲 賲賵卮賴丕蹖 禺丕讴爻鬲乇蹖 亘賴 爻亘亘 噩孬蹅 亘夭乇诏鬲乇卮丕賳 倬蹖乇賵夭 卮丿賴 丕賳丿. 丌賳诏丕賴 丿賵亘丕乇賴 诏乇賵賴 倬蹖乇賵夭 丿賵 丿爻鬲賴 卮丿賴 丕賳丿 讴賴 亘乇 爻乇 賲賳丕亘毓 賵 爻乇夭賲蹖賳 亘丕 賴賲 丕禺鬲賱丕賮 倬蹖丿丕 讴乇丿賴 賵 亘丕 賴賲 亘賴 噩賳诏 倬乇丿丕禺鬲賴 丕賳丿 賵 丿乇 丌禺乇 丕夭 夭亘丕賳 賴丕賳鬲丕 賲蹖 诏賵蹖丿 讴賴 噩賳诏 趩诏賵賳賴 亘丕毓孬 鬲賵丕夭賳 賲賵卮賴丕 卮丿賴 丕爻鬲! 丿乇 丌禺乇 賳蹖夭 賳賯賱 賯賵賱蹖 丕夭 賴诏賱 賲蹖 丌賵乇丿:
鬲賳賴丕 趩蹖夭蹖 讴賴 丿乇 噩賴丕賳 噩丕蹖 賴乇丕爻 丿丕乇丿貙 賵囟毓蹖鬲 賲鬲丨噩乇 丕爻鬲貙 賵囟毓 亘蹖 鬲丨乇讴 丕丨鬲囟丕乇貙 賵 鬲賳賴丕 趩蹖夭蹖 讴賴 丕乇夭卮 卮丕丿賲丕賳蹖 丿丕乇丿 賵囟毓蹖 丕爻鬲 讴賴 丿乇 丌賳 賳賴 鬲賳賴丕 賮乇丿貙 讴賴 讴賱 噩丕賲毓賴貙 丿乇 丨丕賱 賲亘丕乇夭賴 丕蹖 賲丿丕賲貙 亘乇丕蹖 鬲賵噩蹖賴 禺賵蹖卮 丕爻鬲貙 賲亘丕乇夭賴 讴賴 亘賴 賵爻丕胤鬲 丌賳 噩丕賲毓賴 亘鬲賵丕賳丿 噩賵丕賳 卮賵丿 賵 亘賴 丕卮讴丕賱 夭賳丿诏蹖 噩丿蹖丿蹖 丿爻鬲 蹖丕亘丿.
亘丕 禺賵丕賳丿賳 乇賵丕蹖鬲 賲匕讴賵乇 丕夭 夭亘丕賳 賴丕賳鬲丕 丿乇 賮氐賱 爻賵賲貙 亘蹖 丿乇賳诏 亘賴 蹖丕丿 讴鬲丕亘 賮丕卮蹖爻賲 賲丕乇讴 賳卅賵讴賱賵爻 賲蹖 丕賮鬲賲 讴賴 胤蹖 鬲賵囟蹖丨 鬲賮讴乇丕鬲 賮丕卮蹖爻鬲 賴丕貙 丿乇亘丕乇蹅 賳馗乇 丌賳賴丕 丿乇 乇丕亘胤賴 亘丕 噩賳诏 賵 丕蹖賳讴賴 夭賳丿诏蹖 賵丕賯毓蹖 賵 爻乇卮鬲 乇丕爻鬲蹖賳 亘卮乇 乇丕 丿乇 噩賳诏 賲蹖 亘蹖賳賳丿 讴賴 鬲毓丕丿賱 夭賳丿诏蹖 賵 睾賳丕蹖 丌賳 乇丕 亘賴 丕乇賲睾丕賳 賲蹖 丌賵乇丿貙 氐丨亘鬲 賲蹖 讴賳丿.
丕蹖賳诏賵賳賴 丿丕爻鬲丕賳 賴丕蹖 胤毓賳賴 丌賲蹖夭 賵 鬲賮讴乇丕鬲 丿乇 讴鬲丕亘 賮乇丕賵丕賳 丕爻鬲 讴賴 賯胤毓丕 亘乇 夭蹖亘丕蹖蹖 讴鬲丕亘 亘爻蹖丕乇 丕賮夭賵丿賴 丕爻鬲.
夭蹖亘丕蹖蹖
诏丕賴蹖 丕夭 賲鬲賳 賴蹖趩 賳賲蹖 鬲賵丕賳 賮賴賲蹖丿貨 鬲賳賴丕 夭蹖亘丕蹖蹖 賵 丿賱 丕賳诏蹖夭蹖卮 賲卮賴賵丿 丕爻鬲 賵 亘爻. 賲賳馗賵乇賲 丕蹖賳 賳蹖爻鬲 讴賴 讴賱賲丕鬲 乇丕 賳賮賴賲蹖貙 禺蹖乇貨 亘賱讴賴 賲賯氐賵丿賲 丕蹖賳 丕爻鬲 讴賴 禺賵丕賳賳丿賴 鬲賳賴丕 丨爻 賲蹖 讴賳丿 賳賴 賮讴乇. 賳賲蹖 丿丕賳丿 趩乇丕貙 賳賲蹖 丿丕賳丿 趩诏賵賳賴! 丕賵丕蹖賱 胤蹖 禺賵丕賳卮 亘乇禺蹖 丕夭 讴鬲丕亘賴丕 亘乇丕蹖賲 丌夭丕乇丿賴賳丿賴 亘賵丿貙 丕賲丕 丕讴賳賵賳 诏賲丕賳 賲蹖 讴賳賲 讴賴 丕賴賲蹖鬲蹖 賳丿丕乇丿. 丌賳趩賴 亘乇丕蹖賲 丕賴賲蹖鬲 丿丕乇丿貙 賱匕鬲 禺賵丕賳卮 讴鬲丕亘 丕爻鬲貙 賱乇夭丕賳丿賳 乇賵丨賲 丕爻鬲 賵 诏丕賴蹖貙 丌賳 賴賲 鬲賳賴丕 诏丕賴蹖 賳賴 賴賲蹖卮賴貙 鬲賮讴乇 丿乇亘丕乇蹅 亘乇禺蹖 賲爻丕卅賱蹖 讴賴 讴鬲丕亘 賲胤乇丨 賲蹖 讴賳丿. 丌賳趩賴 亘賳馗乇賲 丕賴賲蹖鬲 丿丕乇丿貙 丕蹖賳 丕爻鬲 讴賴 禺賵丕賳賳丿賴 鬲讴賴 丕蹖 诏賲卮丿賴 丕夭 禺賵丿卮 乇丕 丿乇 讴鬲丕亘 倬蹖丿丕 讴賳丿 賵 亘丿丕賳丿 讴賴 丕夭 蹖讴 夭丕賵蹖賴貙 賴爻鬲賳丿 讴爻丕賳蹖 讴賴 夭賳丿诏蹖 乇丕 賲丕賳賳丿 丕賵 賲蹖 亘蹖賳賳丿. 毓卮賯 亘蹖賳 賴丕賳鬲丕 賵 賲丕乇蹖丕 丿乇 丕蹖賳 讴鬲丕亘 亘乇丕蹖賲 趩賳蹖賳 亘賵丿 賵 丿乇 噩丕蹖蹖 诏賮鬲賴 賴丕蹖 讴丕賳鬲 賳蹖夭 亘乇丕蹖賲 趩賳蹖賳 亘賵丿:
讴鬲丕亘 乇丕 賵乇賯 夭丿賲 賵 亘賴 噩賵丕賳蹖 讴丕賳鬲 乇爻蹖丿賲 賵 蹖讴 賯胤毓蹅 丨鬲蹖 夭蹖亘丕鬲乇 丕夭 賯胤毓蹅 賯亘賱蹖 倬蹖丿丕 讴乇丿賲:芦 賴賳诏丕賲蹖 讴賴 乇賵卮賳丕蹖蹖 賱乇夭丕賳 卮亘蹖 鬲丕亘爻鬲丕賳蹖貙 倬乇 丕夭 鬲賱兀賱丐 爻鬲丕乇賴 賴丕 賵 賲丕賴 亘丿乇 鬲賲丕賲 丕爻鬲貙 賲賳 亘賴 丕賵噩 丌賳 賳丕夭讴丿賱蹖 賲蹖 乇爻賲 讴賴 丕夭 丨爻 丿賵爻鬲 丿丕卮鬲賳 噩賴丕賳 賵 丿乇 毓蹖賳 丨丕賱 鬲丨賯蹖乇 丕蹖賳 噩賴丕賳貙 鬲卮讴蹖賱 蹖丕賮鬲賴 丕爻鬲...禄
亘丕 禺賵丕賳丿賳卮 鬲賳賴丕 賲蹖 鬲賵丕賳賲 賴賲丿乇丿蹖賲 乇丕 讴丕賳鬲 賵 賴乇丕亘丕賱 丨爻 讴賳賲 賵 丌賳 趩賳丕賳 丕夭 丨爻 爻乇卮丕乇 卮賵賲 讴賴 趩卮賲丕賳賲 禺蹖爻 丕卮讴 卮賵丿 ...
丿乇 丿賮鬲乇趩賴 丕賲 趩蹖夭賴丕蹖蹖 亘爻蹖丕乇 亘蹖卮鬲乇蹖 賳賵卮鬲賴 丕賲 讴賴 丕蹖賳噩丕 亘蹖丕賳卮丕賳 賳賲蹖 讴賳賲 亘賴 爻亘亘 丌賳讴賴 亘丕 诏賮鬲賳卮丕賳 卮賱蹖丿 丿丕爻鬲丕賳 鬲丕夭诏蹖卮 乇丕 丕夭 丿爻鬲 丿賴丿 賵 丕蹖賳讴賴 賳讴丕鬲 賲丿賳馗乇賲 丌賳賯丿乇 夭蹖丕丿 賴爻鬲賳丿 讴賴 賳賵卮鬲賳 賴賲賴 卮丕賳 丕蹖賳噩丕 賲賯丿賵乇 賳蹖爻鬲.
丿乇 爻讴賵鬲 卮亘丕賳賴貙 爻讴賵鬲 賲胤賱賯 卮亘丕賳賴貙 賵賯鬲蹖 讴賴 丨賵丕爻 丕賳爻丕賳 丌乇丕賲 诏乇賮鬲賴 丕爻鬲貙 乇賵丨蹖 噩丕賵丿丕賳貙 亘賴 夭亘丕賳蹖 亘蹖 賳丕賲 亘丕 丕賳爻丕賳 丕夭 噩蹖夭賴丕蹖蹖貙 丕夭 丕賳丿蹖卮賴 賴丕蹖蹖 爻禺賳 賲蹖 诏賵蹖丿 讴賴 賲蹖 賮賴賲蹖 賵賱蹖 賳賲蹖 鬲賵丕賳蹖 賵氐賮 讴賳蹖.
鬲卅賵乇蹖 丌爻賲丕賳賴丕貙 讴丕賳鬲
倬.賳: 賮氐賱 丌禺乇 讴鬲丕亘 讴賱丕 賲賵夭蹖讴 "氐丿丕蹖 爻讴賵鬲" 倬禺卮 賲蹖卮丿 禺蹖賱蹖 亘賴 丨爻 賵 丨丕賱 讴鬲丕亘 賲蹖禺賵乇丿:)))
The sound of silence
Disturbed
|賳賴! 賳賴 丿乇 丌爻賲丕賳賴丕 賳卮丕賳蹖 丕夭 乇兀賮鬲 賵 毓胤賵賮鬲 賵噩賵丿 丿丕乇丿貙 賳賴 丿乇 夭賳丿诏蹖 亘丕賱丕蹖 爻乇 賵 賳賴 夭蹖乇 倬丕蹖 賲丕 賵 賳賴 丿乇 丿乇賵賳 賲賳.|
亘蹖 乇丨賲蹖貙 爻乇丿蹖 賵 賳亘賵丿 毓丕胤賮賴貨 趩蹖夭蹖爻鬲 讴賴 賳氐蹖亘 賴丕賳鬲丕 (卮禺氐蹖鬲 丕氐賱蹖 讴鬲丕亘) 丿乇 夭賳丿诏蹖 卮丿賴 丕爻鬲. 賲賵噩賵丿蹖 丨爻丕爻 賵 馗乇蹖賮 讴賴 亘賴 毓卮賯貙 亘賴 夭蹖亘丕蹖蹖貙 亘賴 毓胤賵賮鬲 丕賲蹖丿 丿丕卮鬲貙 丕賲丕 夭賳丿诏蹖 亘賴 丕賵 丌賲賵禺鬲 讴賴 噩賴丕賳 趩蹖夭蹖 噩夭 亘蹖 賲賴乇蹖 賵 丿乇丿 賳蹖爻鬲貨 卮丕蹖丿 亘賴 賴賲蹖賳 丿賱蹖賱 賴賲 賴爻鬲 讴賴 丿乇 噩丕蹖 噩丕蹖 讴鬲丕亘 噩賲賱丕鬲蹖 丕蹖賳 趩賳蹖賳 賵噩賵丿 丿丕乇丿.
鬲賳賴丕 賴賳诏丕賲蹖 讴賴 賴丕賳鬲丕 丿丕爻鬲丕賳 禺賵丿 賵 毓卮賯卮貙 丿禺鬲乇讴蹖 讴賵賱蹖貙 乇丕 鬲毓乇蹖賮 賲蹖 讴乇丿貙 诏賲丕賳 讴乇丿賲 讴賴 丌乇蹖 賴乇丕亘丕賱 亘賴 毓卮賯 丕蹖賲丕賳 丿丕乇丿 賵 丕蹖賳讴賴 丿乇賳賴丕蹖鬲 毓卮賯 賮乇噩丕賲蹖 丿丕乇丿 ... 亘賴 賴賲蹖賳 爻亘亘 丿乇 丿賮鬲乇趩蹅 蹖丕丿丿丕卮鬲賲 賳賵卮鬲賲 讴賴 趩賴 夭蹖亘丕爻鬲 毓卮賯 丿禺鬲乇讴 讴賵賱蹖 賵 賴丕賳鬲丕蹖 鬲賳賴丕 亘賴 蹖讴丿蹖诏乇 ... 毓丕卮賯 賵 賲毓卮賵賯蹖 讴賴 鬲賵賯毓蹖 噩夭 毓卮賯 丕夭 賴賲 賳丿丕乇賳丿 ... 鬲丕 丨丿蹖 讴賴 賳賴 丿禺鬲乇讴 賳丕賲 賴丕賳鬲丕 乇丕 賲蹖 丿丕賳丿 賵 賳賴 賴丕賳鬲丕 賳丕賲 丿禺鬲乇讴 乇丕... 賵 亘乇诏蹖 鬲賲丕賲 丿乇 爻鬲丕蹖卮 毓卮賯卮丕賳 賵 噩夭卅蹖丕鬲卮 賵 禺賵卮蹖賴丕蹖卮 賳賵卮鬲賲! 亘毓丿 丕夭 丌賳 丕丿丕賲賴 丿丕丿賲 亘賴 禺賵丕賳丿賳 賵 丿蹖丿賲 讴賴 趩賴 亘乇 爻乇 毓卮賯卮丕賳 丌賲丿 ... 賲鬲賵噩賴 卮丿賲 讴賴 毓卮賯 賳蹖夭 亘賴丕賳賴 丕蹖 亘賵丿 亘乇丕蹖 賳卮丕賳 丿丕丿賳 爻乇丿蹖貙 賳丕賲賴乇亘丕賳蹖 賵 亘蹖 乇賵丨蹖 丕蹖賳 夭賳丿诏蹖. 賴丕賳鬲丕 丿乇 丕賳鬲賴丕蹖 鬲毓乇蹖賮 賲乇丿賳 丿丕爻鬲丕賳卮 毓卮賯卮 亘賴 丿禺鬲乇讴 讴賵賱蹖 賲蹖 诏賵蹖丿:
|賳賴貙 丌爻賲丕賳 毓丕胤賮賴 賳丿丕乇丿貙 賵賱蹖 丕丨鬲賲丕賱丕 趩蹖夭蹖 亘丕賱丕鬲乇 丕夭 丌爻賲丕賳 賵噩賵丿 丿丕乇丿 讴賴 毓卮賯 賵 卮賮賯鬲 丕爻鬲貙 趩蹖夭蹖 讴賴 賲丿鬲賴丕爻鬲 讴賴 丌賳 乇丕 丕夭 蹖丕丿 亘乇丿賴 丕賲.|
禺爻鬲诏蹖 賵 讴賵賮鬲诏蹖 匕賴賳賲
亘丕 倬丕蹖丕賳 讴鬲丕亘貙 丿蹖丿賲 讴賴 賳丕蹖蹖 丿乇 亘丿賳賲 亘丕賯蹖 賳賲丕賳丿賴 丕爻鬲貨 禺爻鬲蹅 禺爻鬲賴貙 鬲賲丕賲 亘丿賳賲 讴賵賮鬲賴 卮丿賴 亘賵丿. 诏賵蹖蹖 丨噩賲蹖 毓馗蹖賲 亘乇 丕賳丿丕賲賲 爻賳诏蹖賳蹖 賲蹖 讴乇丿. 丌賳 趩賳丕賳 丕夭 噩賲賱丕鬲 賴乇丕亘丕賱 賲鬲兀孬乇 卮丿賴 亘賵丿賲 讴賴 賲孬賱 賴丕賳鬲丕 賵賯鬲蹖 讴賴 趩賳丿蹖賳 爻亘賵 丌亘噩賵 丿乇 夭蹖乇夭賲蹖賳卮 賳賵卮蹖丿賴 亘賵丿貙 賲噩亘賵乇 卮丿賲 趩賴丕乇 丿爻鬲 賵 倬丕 乇丕賴 亘乇賵賳 賵 禺賵丿賲 乇丕 亘賴 鬲禺鬲賲 亘乇爻丕賳賲. 丕賮讴丕乇賲 丿乇亘丕乇蹅 丿丕爻鬲丕賳貙 丿乇 匕賴賳賲 乇跇賴 賲蹖 乇賮鬲賳丿 賵 诏賵蹖蹖 噩丕丿賵 卮丿賴 亘賵丿賲貨 亘丕 賯氐蹅 賴丕賳鬲丕 賵 毓卮賯 賯丿蹖賲蹖卮貙 賲丕乇蹖丕貙 賲蹖 禺賳丿蹖丿賲 賵 亘丕 丿丕爻鬲丕賳 讴鬲丕亘賴丕 賵 賲毓卮賵賯 讴賵賱蹖 丕卮 趩卮賲丕賳賲 禺蹖爻 賲蹖 卮丿. 賵賯鬲蹖 賲丕丿乇賲 亘蹖丿丕乇賲 讴乇丿貙 倬乇爻蹖丿 讴賴 趩乇丕 乇賵蹖 讴鬲丕亘 亘蹖趩丕乇賴 禺賵丕亘 乇賮鬲賴 丕賲責! 讴賴 卮丕蹖丿 讴鬲丕亘 乇丕 賱賴 賲蹖 讴乇丿賲貨 睾丕賮賱 丕夭 丕蹖賳讴賴 丕蹖賳 賵夭賳 爻賳诏蹖賳 噩賲賱丕鬲 讴鬲丕亘 丕爻鬲 讴賴 丿丕乇丿 賲賳 乇丕 夭蹖乇 禺賵丿卮 賱賴 賲蹖 讴賳丿 ... 賳丕亘賵丿 賲蹖 讴賳丿! 夭蹖乇丕 讴賴 賴乇丕亘丕賱 禺賵丿 亘賴 賳賯賱 丕夭 鬲賵乇丕鬲 賲蹖 诏賵蹖丿: 芦賲丕 賴賲趩賵賳 丿丕賳賴 賴丕蹖 夭蹖鬲賵賳蹖 賴爻鬲蹖賲 讴賴 鬲賳賴丕 賴賳诏丕賲蹖 噩賵賴乇 禺賵丿 乇丕 亘乇賵夭 賲蹖 丿賴蹖賲 讴賴 丿乇賴賲 卮讴爻鬲賴 卮賵蹖賲禄. 亘賴 丕蹖賳 丕毓鬲賯丕丿 丿丕乇丿 讴賴:
鬲丕 讴丕賲賱丕 丕夭 倬丕 丿乇賳蹖丕賲丿賴 丕蹖賲貙 噩賵賴乇 賵丕賯毓蹖 禺賵丿 乇丕 亘乇賵夭 賳賲蹖 丿賴蹖賲.
亘賴 賴賲蹖賳 爻亘亘貙 亘丕 丿丕爻鬲丕賳卮貙 禺賵丕賳賳丿賴 乇丕 賲蹖 卮讴賳丿 賵 禺乇丿 賲蹖 讴賳丿貙 賲孬賱 夭賳丿诏蹖貨 鬲丕 卮丕蹖丿 丕賳丿讴蹖 丕夭 噩賵賴乇 賵丕賯毓蹖賲丕賳 乇丕 丕夭 賵噩賵丿賲丕賳 亘蹖乇賵賳 讴卮丿 賵 亘賴 賲丕 賳卮丕賳 丿賴丿. 丕賵 賲蹖 丿丕賳丿 讴賴 亘乇丕蹖 爻丕禺鬲賳貙 亘丕蹖丿 禺乇丕亘 讴乇丿 賵 亘乇丕蹖 禺乇丕亘 讴乇丿賳貙 亘丕蹖丿 爻丕禺鬲. 亘賳丕亘乇丕蹖賳貙 亘賴 禺賵丕賳賳丿賴 丕卮 賲蹖 诏賵蹖丿 讴賴 賳丕亘賵丿 卮賵 鬲丕 亘丿丕賳蹖 讴賴 趩賴 丿乇 丿乇賵賳鬲 丕爻鬲貙 賲孬賱 卮禺氐蹖鬲 丿丕爻鬲丕賳卮貙 賴丕賳鬲丕!
鬲賳賴丕蹖蹖 倬乇 賴蹖丕賴賵
賳丕賲 讴鬲丕亘 乇丕 亘賴 夭亘丕賳 丕賳诏賱蹖爻蹖 倬蹖丿丕 讴乇丿賲 讴賴 鬲乇噩賲賴 丕卮 芦蹖讴 鬲賳賴丕蹖蹖 亘爻蹖丕乇 亘賱賳丿禄 賲蹖 卮丿貨 亘賱賳丿 賴賲 丕蹖賳噩丕 賲賳馗賵乇卮 氐丿丕 亘賵丿賴貨 賴蹖丕賴賵 賴賲 讴賴 丿丕丿 賵 賮乇蹖丕丿 賲蹖 卮賵丿. 賳丕賲 夭蹖亘丕蹖蹖爻鬲 丕賲丕 賳賲蹖 丿丕賳賲 丕蹖丕 賵丕賯毓丕 亘賴 丌賳趩賴 賳丕賲 讴鬲丕亘 亘丕蹖丿 亘丕卮丿貙 丿乇 夭亘丕賳 賮丕乇爻蹖貙 賳夭丿蹖讴鬲乇蹖賳 毓賳賵丕賳 鬲賳賴丕锟斤拷蹖 倬乇 賴蹖丕賴賵爻鬲. 賴乇趩賳丿 讴賴 禺賵丿賲 賳丕賲蹖 丕夭 丕蹖賳 夭蹖亘丕鬲乇 亘賴 匕賴賳賲 賳乇爻蹖丿 丕賲丕 丕丨爻丕爻 賲蹖 讴賳賲 丨爻蹖 讴賴 亘丕 丿蹖丿賳 賳丕賲 讴鬲丕亘 诏乇賮鬲賲貙 賲鬲賮丕賵鬲 丕夭 丿丕爻鬲丕賳 亘賵丿.
賳賵蹖爻賳丿賴 爻亘讴 禺丕氐蹖 丕夭 賳賵卮鬲賳 亘乇丕蹖 禺賵丿 丿丕乇丿 讴賴 丿乇 亘蹖賳 讴鬲丕亘賴丕蹖蹖 讴賴 鬲丕 丕讴賳賵賳 禺賵丕賳丿賴 亘賵丿賲貙 亘蹖 賲孬丕賱 亘賵丿. 乇賵丕蹖鬲 亘爻蹖丕乇 爻丕丿蹅 丿丕爻鬲丕賳 丕夭 夭亘丕賳 卮禺氐蹖鬲 丕氐賱蹖貙 讴賴 倬蹖乇賲乇丿蹖 爻丕丿賴 賵 鬲賳賴丕爻鬲貙 胤賵乇蹖 讴賴 鬲賲丕賲 賵賯丕蹖毓 乇丕 丿乇 賳賴丕蹖鬲 倬丕讴蹖 賵 丨爻賳 賳蹖鬲 鬲毓乇蹖賮 賲蹖 讴賳丿貙 亘乇丕蹖賲 噩丕賱亘 亘賵丿貨 賳賵蹖爻賳丿賴 丕噩丕夭賴 賳賲蹖 丿丕丿 讴賴 賳鬲蹖噩賴 丕蹖 丿乇 匕賴賳 禺賵丕賳賳丿賴 讴丕卮鬲賴 卮賵丿 亘賱讴賴 亘丕 亘蹖丕賳 賲孬亘鬲 讴賱 賵賯丕蹖毓 丿丕爻鬲丕賳貙 禺賵丕賳賳丿賴 乇丕 賲噩丕亘 賲蹖 讴乇丿 讴賴 禺賵丿 賳鬲蹖噩賴 亘诏蹖乇丿 賵 亘蹖丕賳丿蹖卮丿貨 丕賱亘鬲賴 賲蹖 鬲賵丕賳 亘賴 讴鬲丕亘 亘賴 毓賳賵丕賳 蹖讴 丿丕爻鬲丕賳 氐乇賮 亘爻蹖丕乇 鬲乇丕跇蹖讴 賳蹖夭 賳诏丕賴 讴乇丿貙 丕賲丕 丕胤賲蹖賳丕賳 丿丕乇賲 讴賴 賳賵蹖爻賳丿賴 丕蹖 讴賴 丕蹖賳 趩賳蹖賳 丿乇 禺賱丕賱 丿丕爻鬲丕賳卮 賵 丨乇賮賴丕蹖卮 丕夭 賮賱丕爻賮賴 (賳蹖趩賴貙 賴诏賱貙 丕乇爻胤賵貙 丕賮賱丕胤賵賳貙 爻丕乇鬲乇貙 讴丕賲賵 賵 亘蹖卮鬲乇 丕夭 賴賲賴 丕夭 讴丕賳鬲) 鬲兀孬蹖乇 诏乇賮鬲賴貙 鬲賳賴丕 亘乇丕蹖 氐乇賮 亘蹖丕賳 丿丕爻鬲丕賳 賳賲蹖 賳賵蹖爻丿貨 亘賱讴賴 賲蹖 賳賵蹖爻丿 讴賴 噩賴丕賳 亘蹖賳蹖 賵 賳诏乇卮 禺賵丕賳賳丿賴 乇丕 鬲睾蹖蹖乇 亘丿賴丿 賵 丕賲蹖丿賵丕乇賲 亘乇丕蹖 賲賳 賴賲 趩賳蹖賳 亘賵丿賴 亘丕卮丿貙 賵诏乇賳賴 禺賵丕賳丿賳 賵 賳禺賵丕賳丿賳卮 鬲賵賮蹖乇蹖 賳丿丕乇丿.
亘丕 禺賵丕賳丿賳 夭賳丿诏蹖 賳丕賲賴 賵 賲賯丿賲賴 賴丕蹖蹖 讴賴 丿乇 丕亘鬲丿丕蹖 讴鬲丕亘貙 亘爻蹖丕乇 亘賴 噩丕貙 賳賵卮鬲賴 卮丿賴 丕賳丿 亘賴 乇丕丨鬲蹖 賲蹖 鬲賵丕賳 賳鬲蹖噩賴 诏乇賮鬲 讴賴 丿乇 鬲賲丕賲蹖 氐賮丨丕鬲貙 夭賳丿诏蹖 禺賵丿 賴乇丕亘丕賱 賲卮賴賵丿 丕爻鬲. 亘賴 賯賵賱 亘禺鬲蹖丕乇 毓賱蹖貙 賳賵蹖爻賳丿賴 讴爻蹖爻鬲 讴賴 丿爻鬲 禺賵丕賳賳丿賴 乇丕 亘诏蹖乇丿 賵 亘丕 賳賵卮鬲賴 賴丕蹖卮 丕賵 乇丕貙 丿乇讴賳丕乇 禺賵丿卮貙 丿乇 丌爻賲丕賳賴丕 亘賴 倬乇賵丕夭 丿乇丌賵乇丿 賳賴 丌賳讴賴 亘乇丕蹖 賮賴賲 賲禺丕胤亘卮 丕夭 倬乇賵丕夭 丿乇 丌爻賲丕賳 丿爻鬲 亘讴卮丿 賵 亘賴 倬丕蹖蹖賳 亘蹖丕蹖丿 (賳賯賱 亘賴 賲囟賲賵賳)貨 亘丕 丕蹖賳 鬲毓亘蹖乇貙 賴乇丕亘丕賱貙 讴賴 丕夭 禺賵丿卮 亘乇丕蹖 禺賵丿卮 賳賵卮鬲賴貙 讴鬲丕亘蹖 丌賳趩賳丕賳 爻亘讴 賳诏丕卮鬲賴 讴賴 讴鬲丕亘 丿乇 賴賵丕 賲毓賱賯 賲蹖 卮賵丿 賵 亘賴 爻賵蹖 丌爻賲丕賳 賲蹖 乇賵丿 賵 禺賵丕賳賳丿賴 乇丕 賳蹖夭 亘丕 禺賵丿 亘賴 丌爻賲丕賳賴丕 賲蹖 亘乇丿貨 丕賱亘鬲賴 鬲噩乇亘蹅 鬲賳賴丕蹖蹖 賳蹖夭 賲蹖 鬲賵丕賳丿 亘乇 丕蹖賳 賲爻卅賱賴 鬲兀孬蹖乇诏匕丕乇 亘丕卮丿. 賳賲蹖 卮賵丿 讴賴 丨爻 亘賵丿賳 亘丕 禺賵蹖卮鬲賳 乇丕 亘乇丕蹖 乇賵夭賴丕 鬲噩乇亘賴 賳讴乇丿賴 亘丕卮蹖貙 丿乇 賲丨賮賱 賴丕蹖 倬乇卮賵乇 鬲讴 賳賮乇賴 讴賴 丌丿賲 禺賵丿卮 亘乇丕蹖 禺賵丿卮 鬲乇鬲蹖亘 賲蹖 丿賴丿 卮乇讴鬲 賳讴乇丿賴 亘丕卮蹖貙 丿乇 丨丕賱鬲蹖 賳蹖賲賴 丌诏丕賴 丿乇 禺蹖丕亘丕賳賴丕 乇丕賴 賳乇賮鬲賴 亘丕卮蹖 賵 賳诏丕賴 毓噩蹖亘 賵 爻乇丿 丿蹖诏乇丕賳 乇丕 鬲丨賲賱 賳讴乇丿賴 亘丕卮蹖 賵 亘禺賵丕賴蹖 讴賴 讴鬲丕亘 亘乇丕蹖鬲 爻乇丕爻乇 賱匕鬲 賴賲丿乇丿蹖 賵 亘賵丿賳 鬲噩乇亘蹅 賲卮丕亘賴 乇丕 丿丕卮鬲賴 亘丕卮丿. 卮丕蹖丿 亘賴 賴賲蹖賳 爻亘亘 賴賲 亘賵丿 讴賴 賳鬲賵丕賳爻鬲賲 亘丕 亘乇禺蹖 氐賮丨丕鬲卮 丕乇鬲亘丕胤 讴丕賲賱 亘乇賯乇丕乇 讴賳賲:
賲賳 賲蹖 鬲賵丕賳賲 亘賴 禺賵丿賲 "鬲噩賲賱" 賲胤乇賵丿亘賵丿賳 乇丕 乇賵丕 亘丿丕乇賲貙 賴乇 趩賳丿 賴乇诏夭 賲胤乇賵丿 賳蹖爻鬲賲貙 賮賯胤 噩爻賲丕 鬲賳賴丕 賴爻鬲賲貙 鬲丕 亘鬲賵丕賳賲 丿乇 鬲賳賴丕蹖蹖 丕蹖 亘爻乇 亘亘乇賲 讴賴 爻丕讴賳丕賳卮 丕賳丿蹖卮賴 賴丕 賴爻鬲賳丿貙 趩賵賳 讴賴 賲賳 蹖讴 丌丿賲 亘蹖 讴賱蹅 丕夭賱蹖-丕亘丿蹖 賴爻鬲賲 賵 丕賳诏丕乇 讴賴 丕夭賱 賵 丕亘丿 丕夭 丌丿賲賴丕蹖蹖 賲孬賱 賲賳 趩賳丿丕賳 亘丿卮 賳賲蹖 丌蹖丿.
鬲賳賴丕蹖蹖 賴丕賳鬲丕 丿乇 爻乇丕爻乇 讴鬲丕亘 賲卮賴賵丿 丕爻鬲 賵 賴乇丕亘丕賱 丕夭 丌賳 亘乇丕蹖 亘蹖丕賳 賲胤丕賱亘 夭蹖亘丕蹖蹖 丕爻鬲賮丕丿賴 賲蹖 讴賳丿:
丕夭卮 禺賵丕爻鬲賲 讴賴 賲乇丕 亘亘禺卮丿. 賳賲蹖 丿丕賳爻鬲賲 亘賴 禺丕胤乇 趩賴 诏賳丕賴蹖 亘丕蹖丿 賲乇丕 賲蹖 亘禺卮蹖丿貙 賵賱蹖 爻乇賳賵卮鬲 賲賳 丕蹖賳 亘賵丿. 爻乇賳賵卮鬲 賲賳 毓匕乇 鬲賯氐蹖乇 禺賵丕爻鬲賳 丕夭 賴賲賴 亘賵丿. 賲賳 丨鬲蹖 丕夭 禺賵丿賲 賴賲 亘賴 禺丕胤乇 丌賳趩賴 亘賵丿賲貙 亘賴 禺丕胤乇 胤亘蹖毓鬲 诏乇蹖夭賳丕倬匕蹖乇賲貙 鬲賯丕囟丕蹖 亘禺卮卮 賲蹖 讴乇丿賲.
诏賵蹖蹖 鬲賯丿蹖乇 丕賳爻丕賳賴丕蹖蹖 讴賴 卮亘蹖賴 亘賯蹖賴 賳蹖爻鬲賳丿貙 趩賳蹖賳 丕爻鬲貨 丕蹖賳讴賴 亘丕蹖丿 亘禺丕胤乇 亘賵丿賳卮丕賳 丕夭 亘賯蹖賴 毓匕乇 亘禺賵丕賴賳丿. 噩賴丕賳 賵 丌丿賲蹖丕賳卮 鬲賮丕賵鬲 乇丕 亘乇賳賲蹖 鬲丕亘賳丿 賵 亘丕 丿蹖丿賳 丨丕賱卮丕賳 亘賴 賴賲 賲蹖 禺賵乇丿貨 趩賳丕賳 讴賴 賮乇丿 乇丕 賲賯氐乇 賲蹖 丿丕賳賳丿 讴賴 趩乇丕 趩賳蹖賳 賳蹖爻鬲貨 趩賳丕賳 讴賴 卮賵倬賳賴丕賵乇 賲蹖 诏賵蹖丿 亘蹖卮鬲乇 賳跇丕丿 亘卮乇 乇丕 丕丨賲賯 賴丕蹖蹖 鬲卮讴蹖賱 丿丕丿賴 丕賳丿 讴賴 鬲賳賴丕 亘丕 丕賳爻丕賳 賴丕蹖蹖 賲蹖 鬲賵丕賳賳丿 丿賲禺賵乇 卮賵賳丿 讴賴 趩賵賳 禺賵丿卮丕賳 丕丨賲賯 亘丕卮賳丿 賵 賲賴乇 鬲兀蹖蹖丿蹖 亘乇丨賲丕賯鬲卮丕賳 亘夭賳賳丿. 丕诏乇 趩賳蹖賳 賳亘丕卮丿 亘丕 丕賵 亘賴 丕讴乇丕賴 乇賮鬲丕乇 賲蹖 讴賳賳丿 賵 丨鬲蹖 亘乇丕蹖 丕卮鬲亘丕賴丕鬲 禺賵丿卮丕賳 賳蹖夭 丕賵 乇丕 賲賯氐乇 賲蹖 倬賳丿丕乇賳丿. 賴乇丕亘丕賱 賳蹖夭 丕蹖賳 乇丕 賲蹖 丿丕賳爻鬲賴 賵 亘乇丕蹖 賴賲蹖賳 卮禺氐蹖鬲蹖 乇丕 禺賱賯 讴乇丿賴 讴賴 丕蹖賳 趩賳蹖賳 鬲賳賴丕爻鬲 讴賴 丕蹖賳 乇丕 賳卮丕賳 丿賴丿貙 趩賵賳 亘丕 賴賲賴 賲鬲賮丕賵鬲 丕爻鬲.
胤毓賳賴 賴丕 賵 賳賲丕丿賴丕
賯爻賲鬲蹖 丕夭 丿丕爻鬲丕賳賴丕蹖 讴鬲丕亘 丕卮丕乇賴 亘賴 丕鬲賲爻賮乇 爻蹖丕爻蹖 丿賵乇丕賳 賲禺鬲賱賮 讴卮賵乇 趩讴 賵 丨讴丕賲蹖 讴賴 亘乇 丌賳 丨讴賲 賲蹖 讴乇丿賳丿貙 丿丕乇丿貨 亘賳丕亘乇丕蹖賳 丿丕賳爻鬲賳 噩賵 爻蹖丕爻蹖 趩讴 丿乇 賯乇賳 亘蹖爻鬲賲 卮丕蹖丿 亘乇 賮賴賲 丿丕爻鬲丕賳 賲禺氐賵氐丕 丿乇 丿丕爻鬲丕賳賴丕蹖蹖 讴賴 賴乇丕亘丕賱 丿乇 夭賲丕賳 丨丕賱 丿乇 讴鬲丕亘 賵 夭賲丕賳蹖 讴賴 亘丕 賲毓卮賵賯 讴賵賱蹖卮 亘賵丿賴貙 鬲兀孬蹖乇 亘爻夭丕蹖蹖 丿丕卮鬲賴 亘丕卮丿貨 亘乇丕蹖 賲孬丕賱 賴丕賳鬲丕 丿乇 賮氐賱 爻賵賲 讴鬲丕亘 鬲毓乇蹖賮 賲蹖 讴賳丿 讴賴 丿乇 亘丕夭丿蹖丿卮 丕夭 賮丕囟賱丕亘賴丕蹖 卮賴乇 倬乇丕诏貙 丿賵 诏乇賵賴 丕氐賱蹖 賲賵卮 亘乇 爻乇 丌卮睾丕賱賴丕 賵 賲爻丕丨鬲 賮丕囟賱丕亘賴丕 (讴賴 诏乇賵賴蹖 爻賮蹖丿 亘賵丿賴 丕賳丿 賵 诏乇賵賴蹖 賳蹖夭 禺丕讴爻鬲乇蹖!) 丿丕卅賲丕 亘丕 賴賲 丿乇 噩賳诏 亘賵丿賴 丕賳丿貨 賮乇賲丕賳丿賴丕賳卮 乇丕 丿蹖丿賴 讴賴 賳胤賯 賴丕蹖蹖 睾乇丕 丿乇亘丕乇蹅 噩賳诏 賳賴丕蹖蹖 賵 倬蹖乇賵夭蹖 爻乇 丿丕丿賴 丕賳丿 賵 丕蹖賳讴賴 丿乇 賳賴丕蹖鬲 賲賵卮賴丕蹖 禺丕讴爻鬲乇蹖 亘賴 爻亘亘 噩孬蹅 亘夭乇诏鬲乇卮丕賳 倬蹖乇賵夭 卮丿賴 丕賳丿. 丌賳诏丕賴 丿賵亘丕乇賴 诏乇賵賴 倬蹖乇賵夭 丿賵 丿爻鬲賴 卮丿賴 丕賳丿 讴賴 亘乇 爻乇 賲賳丕亘毓 賵 爻乇夭賲蹖賳 亘丕 賴賲 丕禺鬲賱丕賮 倬蹖丿丕 讴乇丿賴 賵 亘丕 賴賲 亘賴 噩賳诏 倬乇丿丕禺鬲賴 丕賳丿 賵 丿乇 丌禺乇 丕夭 夭亘丕賳 賴丕賳鬲丕 賲蹖 诏賵蹖丿 讴賴 噩賳诏 趩诏賵賳賴 亘丕毓孬 鬲賵丕夭賳 賲賵卮賴丕 卮丿賴 丕爻鬲! 丿乇 丌禺乇 賳蹖夭 賳賯賱 賯賵賱蹖 丕夭 賴诏賱 賲蹖 丌賵乇丿:
鬲賳賴丕 趩蹖夭蹖 讴賴 丿乇 噩賴丕賳 噩丕蹖 賴乇丕爻 丿丕乇丿貙 賵囟毓蹖鬲 賲鬲丨噩乇 丕爻鬲貙 賵囟毓 亘蹖 鬲丨乇讴 丕丨鬲囟丕乇貙 賵 鬲賳賴丕 趩蹖夭蹖 讴賴 丕乇夭卮 卮丕丿賲丕賳蹖 丿丕乇丿 賵囟毓蹖 丕爻鬲 讴賴 丿乇 丌賳 賳賴 鬲賳賴丕 賮乇丿貙 讴賴 讴賱 噩丕賲毓賴貙 丿乇 丨丕賱 賲亘丕乇夭賴 丕蹖 賲丿丕賲貙 亘乇丕蹖 鬲賵噩蹖賴 禺賵蹖卮 丕爻鬲貙 賲亘丕乇夭賴 讴賴 亘賴 賵爻丕胤鬲 丌賳 噩丕賲毓賴 亘鬲賵丕賳丿 噩賵丕賳 卮賵丿 賵 亘賴 丕卮讴丕賱 夭賳丿诏蹖 噩丿蹖丿蹖 丿爻鬲 蹖丕亘丿.
亘丕 禺賵丕賳丿賳 乇賵丕蹖鬲 賲匕讴賵乇 丕夭 夭亘丕賳 賴丕賳鬲丕 丿乇 賮氐賱 爻賵賲貙 亘蹖 丿乇賳诏 亘賴 蹖丕丿 讴鬲丕亘 賮丕卮蹖爻賲 賲丕乇讴 賳卅賵讴賱賵爻 賲蹖 丕賮鬲賲 讴賴 胤蹖 鬲賵囟蹖丨 鬲賮讴乇丕鬲 賮丕卮蹖爻鬲 賴丕貙 丿乇亘丕乇蹅 賳馗乇 丌賳賴丕 丿乇 乇丕亘胤賴 亘丕 噩賳诏 賵 丕蹖賳讴賴 夭賳丿诏蹖 賵丕賯毓蹖 賵 爻乇卮鬲 乇丕爻鬲蹖賳 亘卮乇 乇丕 丿乇 噩賳诏 賲蹖 亘蹖賳賳丿 讴賴 鬲毓丕丿賱 夭賳丿诏蹖 賵 睾賳丕蹖 丌賳 乇丕 亘賴 丕乇賲睾丕賳 賲蹖 丌賵乇丿貙 氐丨亘鬲 賲蹖 讴賳丿.
丕蹖賳诏賵賳賴 丿丕爻鬲丕賳 賴丕蹖 胤毓賳賴 丌賲蹖夭 賵 鬲賮讴乇丕鬲 丿乇 讴鬲丕亘 賮乇丕賵丕賳 丕爻鬲 讴賴 賯胤毓丕 亘乇 夭蹖亘丕蹖蹖 讴鬲丕亘 亘爻蹖丕乇 丕賮夭賵丿賴 丕爻鬲.
夭蹖亘丕蹖蹖
诏丕賴蹖 丕夭 賲鬲賳 賴蹖趩 賳賲蹖 鬲賵丕賳 賮賴賲蹖丿貨 鬲賳賴丕 夭蹖亘丕蹖蹖 賵 丿賱 丕賳诏蹖夭蹖卮 賲卮賴賵丿 丕爻鬲 賵 亘爻. 賲賳馗賵乇賲 丕蹖賳 賳蹖爻鬲 讴賴 讴賱賲丕鬲 乇丕 賳賮賴賲蹖貙 禺蹖乇貨 亘賱讴賴 賲賯氐賵丿賲 丕蹖賳 丕爻鬲 讴賴 禺賵丕賳賳丿賴 鬲賳賴丕 丨爻 賲蹖 讴賳丿 賳賴 賮讴乇. 賳賲蹖 丿丕賳丿 趩乇丕貙 賳賲蹖 丿丕賳丿 趩诏賵賳賴! 丕賵丕蹖賱 胤蹖 禺賵丕賳卮 亘乇禺蹖 丕夭 讴鬲丕亘賴丕 亘乇丕蹖賲 丌夭丕乇丿賴賳丿賴 亘賵丿貙 丕賲丕 丕讴賳賵賳 诏賲丕賳 賲蹖 讴賳賲 讴賴 丕賴賲蹖鬲蹖 賳丿丕乇丿. 丌賳趩賴 亘乇丕蹖賲 丕賴賲蹖鬲 丿丕乇丿貙 賱匕鬲 禺賵丕賳卮 讴鬲丕亘 丕爻鬲貙 賱乇夭丕賳丿賳 乇賵丨賲 丕爻鬲 賵 诏丕賴蹖貙 丌賳 賴賲 鬲賳賴丕 诏丕賴蹖 賳賴 賴賲蹖卮賴貙 鬲賮讴乇 丿乇亘丕乇蹅 亘乇禺蹖 賲爻丕卅賱蹖 讴賴 讴鬲丕亘 賲胤乇丨 賲蹖 讴賳丿. 丌賳趩賴 亘賳馗乇賲 丕賴賲蹖鬲 丿丕乇丿貙 丕蹖賳 丕爻鬲 讴賴 禺賵丕賳賳丿賴 鬲讴賴 丕蹖 诏賲卮丿賴 丕夭 禺賵丿卮 乇丕 丿乇 讴鬲丕亘 倬蹖丿丕 讴賳丿 賵 亘丿丕賳丿 讴賴 丕夭 蹖讴 夭丕賵蹖賴貙 賴爻鬲賳丿 讴爻丕賳蹖 讴賴 夭賳丿诏蹖 乇丕 賲丕賳賳丿 丕賵 賲蹖 亘蹖賳賳丿. 毓卮賯 亘蹖賳 賴丕賳鬲丕 賵 賲丕乇蹖丕 丿乇 丕蹖賳 讴鬲丕亘 亘乇丕蹖賲 趩賳蹖賳 亘賵丿 賵 丿乇 噩丕蹖蹖 诏賮鬲賴 賴丕蹖 讴丕賳鬲 賳蹖夭 亘乇丕蹖賲 趩賳蹖賳 亘賵丿:
讴鬲丕亘 乇丕 賵乇賯 夭丿賲 賵 亘賴 噩賵丕賳蹖 讴丕賳鬲 乇爻蹖丿賲 賵 蹖讴 賯胤毓蹅 丨鬲蹖 夭蹖亘丕鬲乇 丕夭 賯胤毓蹅 賯亘賱蹖 倬蹖丿丕 讴乇丿賲:芦 賴賳诏丕賲蹖 讴賴 乇賵卮賳丕蹖蹖 賱乇夭丕賳 卮亘蹖 鬲丕亘爻鬲丕賳蹖貙 倬乇 丕夭 鬲賱兀賱丐 爻鬲丕乇賴 賴丕 賵 賲丕賴 亘丿乇 鬲賲丕賲 丕爻鬲貙 賲賳 亘賴 丕賵噩 丌賳 賳丕夭讴丿賱蹖 賲蹖 乇爻賲 讴賴 丕夭 丨爻 丿賵爻鬲 丿丕卮鬲賳 噩賴丕賳 賵 丿乇 毓蹖賳 丨丕賱 鬲丨賯蹖乇 丕蹖賳 噩賴丕賳貙 鬲卮讴蹖賱 蹖丕賮鬲賴 丕爻鬲...禄
亘丕 禺賵丕賳丿賳卮 鬲賳賴丕 賲蹖 鬲賵丕賳賲 賴賲丿乇丿蹖賲 乇丕 讴丕賳鬲 賵 賴乇丕亘丕賱 丨爻 讴賳賲 賵 丌賳 趩賳丕賳 丕夭 丨爻 爻乇卮丕乇 卮賵賲 讴賴 趩卮賲丕賳賲 禺蹖爻 丕卮讴 卮賵丿 ...
丿乇 丿賮鬲乇趩賴 丕賲 趩蹖夭賴丕蹖蹖 亘爻蹖丕乇 亘蹖卮鬲乇蹖 賳賵卮鬲賴 丕賲 讴賴 丕蹖賳噩丕 亘蹖丕賳卮丕賳 賳賲蹖 讴賳賲 亘賴 爻亘亘 丌賳讴賴 亘丕 诏賮鬲賳卮丕賳 卮賱蹖丿 丿丕爻鬲丕賳 鬲丕夭诏蹖卮 乇丕 丕夭 丿爻鬲 丿賴丿 賵 丕蹖賳讴賴 賳讴丕鬲 賲丿賳馗乇賲 丌賳賯丿乇 夭蹖丕丿 賴爻鬲賳丿 讴賴 賳賵卮鬲賳 賴賲賴 卮丕賳 丕蹖賳噩丕 賲賯丿賵乇 賳蹖爻鬲.
丿乇 爻讴賵鬲 卮亘丕賳賴貙 爻讴賵鬲 賲胤賱賯 卮亘丕賳賴貙 賵賯鬲蹖 讴賴 丨賵丕爻 丕賳爻丕賳 丌乇丕賲 诏乇賮鬲賴 丕爻鬲貙 乇賵丨蹖 噩丕賵丿丕賳貙 亘賴 夭亘丕賳蹖 亘蹖 賳丕賲 亘丕 丕賳爻丕賳 丕夭 噩蹖夭賴丕蹖蹖貙 丕夭 丕賳丿蹖卮賴 賴丕蹖蹖 爻禺賳 賲蹖 诏賵蹖丿 讴賴 賲蹖 賮賴賲蹖 賵賱蹖 賳賲蹖 鬲賵丕賳蹖 賵氐賮 讴賳蹖.
鬲卅賵乇蹖 丌爻賲丕賳賴丕貙 讴丕賳鬲
倬.賳: 賮氐賱 丌禺乇 讴鬲丕亘 讴賱丕 賲賵夭蹖讴 "氐丿丕蹖 爻讴賵鬲" 倬禺卮 賲蹖卮丿 禺蹖賱蹖 亘賴 丨爻 賵 丨丕賱 讴鬲丕亘 賲蹖禺賵乇丿:)))
The sound of silence
Disturbed
January 1, 2018
鬲賯乇蹖亘丕 賴賲賴鈥屰� 丿賵爻鬲丕賳 诏賵丿乇蹖丿夭蹖 丕蹖賳 讴鬲丕亘 乇丕 禺賵丕賳丿賴 亘賵丿賳丿 蹖丕 鬲賵-乇蹖丿 卮丕賳 亘賵丿貨 賵 亘噩夭 丿賵 賳賮乇貙 亘賯蹖賴 亘賴卮 趩賴丕乇 蹖丕 倬賳噩 丿丕丿賴 亘賵丿賳丿.
丿丕爻鬲丕賳蹖 丿乇亘丕乇賴鈥屰� 賮鬲蹖卮 亘賴 讴鬲丕亘貨 賵賱蹖 賳賴 毓卮賯 亘賴 讴鬲丕亘 亘賴鈥屫ж坟� 毓卮賯 亘賴 蹖丕丿诏乇賮鬲賳 亘蹖卮鬲乇 丕夭 夭賳丿诏蹖貙 亘賱讴賴 讴鬲丕亘禺賵丕賳蹖 丿乇 丕賳夭賵丕 賵 夭賳丿诏蹖 乇丕 讴鬲丕亘 鬲毓乇蹖賮 讴乇丿賳. 亘賴 毓亘丕乇鬲蹖貙 夭賳丿诏蹖鈥� 乇丕賵蹖 丿丕爻鬲丕賳 亘乇 讴鬲丕亘鈥屬囏� 睾賱亘賴 賳丿丕乇丿貙 亘賱讴賴 讴鬲丕亘 丕爻鬲 讴賴 夭賳丿诏蹖鈥屫ж� 乇丕 賲蹖鈥屫池ж藏�. 丿賳蹖丕蹖卮 噩丕蹖蹖 丕爻鬲 讴賴 賮賯胤 丿乇 讴鬲丕亘鈥屬囏� 倬蹖丿丕 賲蹖鈥屫促堌�.
賲丿丕賲 丕爻賲 丕夭 賳賵蹖爻賳丿诏丕賳 賵 讴鬲丕亘鈥屬囏� 賲蹖鈥屫③屫� 賵 卮丕蹖丿 賴賲蹖賳 丕乇噩丕毓丕鬲 毓丕賲賱 卮蹖賮鬲诏蹖 亘爻蹖丕乇蹖 丕夭 讴鬲丕亘鈥屫堌з嗏€屬囏� 亘賴 鬲賳賴丕蹖蹖 倬乇賴蹖丕賴賵 亘丕卮丿貙 丕賲丕 賲賳 丕蹖賳 芦讴賵鬲禄 讴乇丿賳鈥屬囏� 乇丕 賴蹖趩 賳賲蹖鈥屬矩迟嗀�. 丕乇噩丕毓丕鬲 丿乇 丨丿 丕蹖賳 丕爻鬲 讴賴 賲孬賱丕 亘诏賵蹖丿 爻丕乇鬲乇 賵 讴丕賲賵 丕诏夭蹖爻鬲丕賳爻蹖丕賱蹖爻鬲 賴爻鬲賳丿. 賴賲蹖賳. 亘賴 夭賵乇 鬲賵氐蹖賮丕鬲 乇丕 亘賴 亘賴 丕氐胤賱丕丨 噩賲賱丕鬲 亘夭乇诏丕賳 乇亘胤 丿丕丿賳.
丿乇 賴賲蹖賳 丿丕爻鬲丕賳 氐丿 氐賮丨賴鈥屫й� 亘毓囟蹖 丕蹖丿賴鈥屬囏� 亘賴 鬲讴乇丕乇 賲蹖鈥屫з佖嗀� 賲孬賱丕 亘丕夭賳卮爻鬲賴鈥屫й� (乇丕賵蹖 賵 丿丕蹖蹖鈥屫ж�) 讴賴 丕蹖賳賯丿乇 亘丕 讴丕乇卮 毓噩蹖賳 卮丿賴 讴賴 亘毓丿 丕夭 亘丕夭賳卮爻鬲诏蹖 賴賲 丌賳 讴丕乇 乇丕 丿乇 禺丕賳賴鈥屫ж� 丕賳噩丕賲 賲蹖 丿賴丿. 蹖丕 丕夭 賲夭丕丨賲鬲 鬲賵丕賲 亘丕 賴賲鈥屫槽屫池� 賲賵卮鈥屬囏� 賲蹖鈥屭堐屫� 賵 趩賳丿 賮氐賱 亘毓丿 賴賲蹖賳 鬲賵氐蹖賮丕鬲 乇丕 丿乇亘丕乇賴鈥屰� 賲诏爻鈥屬囏� 賲蹖鈥屫①堌必�.
賮賴賲蹖丿賲 讴賴 賴乇丕亘丕賱貙 賳賵蹖爻賳丿賴鈥屰� 賮蹖賱賲 芦讴賱賵夭賱蹖 賵丕趩丿 鬲乇蹖賳禄 賴賲 賴爻鬲貨 賮蹖賱賲蹖 讴賴 爻丕賱鈥屬囏� 倬蹖卮 丿蹖丿賲卮 賵 賵丕賯毓丕 丿賵爻鬲卮 丿丕乇賲.
丿賵 爻丕賱 倬蹖卮 讴鬲丕亘 芦讴丕乇 诏賱禄 丕夭 丕蹖賵丕賳 讴賱蹖賲丕 乇丕 禺賵丕賳丿賴 亘賵丿賲 讴賴 丨賯蹖賯鬲丕 禺賵亘 丕爻鬲. 丌賳鈥屫� 賴賲貙 丿乇 蹖讴 賮氐賱貙 賳賵蹖爻賳丿賴鈥屰� 趩讴蹖 賲丕 丕夭 爻禺鬲蹖 讴鬲丕亘鈥屫堌з嗀� 丿乇 丿賵乇丕賳 卮賵乇賵蹖 賲蹖鈥屭堐屫� 賵賱蹖 亘丿賵賳 - 亘賴 賯賵賱 賲賳 - 噩賱賵賴鈥屬佖辟堌篡� 丕爻丕賲蹖 丕丿亘蹖丕鬲 賵 丕爻丕胤蹖乇 賵 賮賱爻賮賴 丿乇 丿丕爻鬲丕賳卮.
丿丕爻鬲丕賳蹖 丿乇亘丕乇賴鈥屰� 賮鬲蹖卮 亘賴 讴鬲丕亘貨 賵賱蹖 賳賴 毓卮賯 亘賴 讴鬲丕亘 亘賴鈥屫ж坟� 毓卮賯 亘賴 蹖丕丿诏乇賮鬲賳 亘蹖卮鬲乇 丕夭 夭賳丿诏蹖貙 亘賱讴賴 讴鬲丕亘禺賵丕賳蹖 丿乇 丕賳夭賵丕 賵 夭賳丿诏蹖 乇丕 讴鬲丕亘 鬲毓乇蹖賮 讴乇丿賳. 亘賴 毓亘丕乇鬲蹖貙 夭賳丿诏蹖鈥� 乇丕賵蹖 丿丕爻鬲丕賳 亘乇 讴鬲丕亘鈥屬囏� 睾賱亘賴 賳丿丕乇丿貙 亘賱讴賴 讴鬲丕亘 丕爻鬲 讴賴 夭賳丿诏蹖鈥屫ж� 乇丕 賲蹖鈥屫池ж藏�. 丿賳蹖丕蹖卮 噩丕蹖蹖 丕爻鬲 讴賴 賮賯胤 丿乇 讴鬲丕亘鈥屬囏� 倬蹖丿丕 賲蹖鈥屫促堌�.
賲丿丕賲 丕爻賲 丕夭 賳賵蹖爻賳丿诏丕賳 賵 讴鬲丕亘鈥屬囏� 賲蹖鈥屫③屫� 賵 卮丕蹖丿 賴賲蹖賳 丕乇噩丕毓丕鬲 毓丕賲賱 卮蹖賮鬲诏蹖 亘爻蹖丕乇蹖 丕夭 讴鬲丕亘鈥屫堌з嗏€屬囏� 亘賴 鬲賳賴丕蹖蹖 倬乇賴蹖丕賴賵 亘丕卮丿貙 丕賲丕 賲賳 丕蹖賳 芦讴賵鬲禄 讴乇丿賳鈥屬囏� 乇丕 賴蹖趩 賳賲蹖鈥屬矩迟嗀�. 丕乇噩丕毓丕鬲 丿乇 丨丿 丕蹖賳 丕爻鬲 讴賴 賲孬賱丕 亘诏賵蹖丿 爻丕乇鬲乇 賵 讴丕賲賵 丕诏夭蹖爻鬲丕賳爻蹖丕賱蹖爻鬲 賴爻鬲賳丿. 賴賲蹖賳. 亘賴 夭賵乇 鬲賵氐蹖賮丕鬲 乇丕 亘賴 亘賴 丕氐胤賱丕丨 噩賲賱丕鬲 亘夭乇诏丕賳 乇亘胤 丿丕丿賳.
丿乇 賴賲蹖賳 丿丕爻鬲丕賳 氐丿 氐賮丨賴鈥屫й� 亘毓囟蹖 丕蹖丿賴鈥屬囏� 亘賴 鬲讴乇丕乇 賲蹖鈥屫з佖嗀� 賲孬賱丕 亘丕夭賳卮爻鬲賴鈥屫й� (乇丕賵蹖 賵 丿丕蹖蹖鈥屫ж�) 讴賴 丕蹖賳賯丿乇 亘丕 讴丕乇卮 毓噩蹖賳 卮丿賴 讴賴 亘毓丿 丕夭 亘丕夭賳卮爻鬲诏蹖 賴賲 丌賳 讴丕乇 乇丕 丿乇 禺丕賳賴鈥屫ж� 丕賳噩丕賲 賲蹖 丿賴丿. 蹖丕 丕夭 賲夭丕丨賲鬲 鬲賵丕賲 亘丕 賴賲鈥屫槽屫池� 賲賵卮鈥屬囏� 賲蹖鈥屭堐屫� 賵 趩賳丿 賮氐賱 亘毓丿 賴賲蹖賳 鬲賵氐蹖賮丕鬲 乇丕 丿乇亘丕乇賴鈥屰� 賲诏爻鈥屬囏� 賲蹖鈥屫①堌必�.
賮賴賲蹖丿賲 讴賴 賴乇丕亘丕賱貙 賳賵蹖爻賳丿賴鈥屰� 賮蹖賱賲 芦讴賱賵夭賱蹖 賵丕趩丿 鬲乇蹖賳禄 賴賲 賴爻鬲貨 賮蹖賱賲蹖 讴賴 爻丕賱鈥屬囏� 倬蹖卮 丿蹖丿賲卮 賵 賵丕賯毓丕 丿賵爻鬲卮 丿丕乇賲.
丿賵 爻丕賱 倬蹖卮 讴鬲丕亘 芦讴丕乇 诏賱禄 丕夭 丕蹖賵丕賳 讴賱蹖賲丕 乇丕 禺賵丕賳丿賴 亘賵丿賲 讴賴 丨賯蹖賯鬲丕 禺賵亘 丕爻鬲. 丌賳鈥屫� 賴賲貙 丿乇 蹖讴 賮氐賱貙 賳賵蹖爻賳丿賴鈥屰� 趩讴蹖 賲丕 丕夭 爻禺鬲蹖 讴鬲丕亘鈥屫堌з嗀� 丿乇 丿賵乇丕賳 卮賵乇賵蹖 賲蹖鈥屭堐屫� 賵賱蹖 亘丿賵賳 - 亘賴 賯賵賱 賲賳 - 噩賱賵賴鈥屬佖辟堌篡� 丕爻丕賲蹖 丕丿亘蹖丕鬲 賵 丕爻丕胤蹖乇 賵 賮賱爻賮賴 丿乇 丿丕爻鬲丕賳卮.
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