автограф
     пускай с моею мордою
   печатных книжек нет,
  вот эта подпись гордая
есть мой автопортрет

Stepanakert
                   Saga

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рукописи не горят!.. ...в интернете ...   

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    days:

December 23.

The din in the second half of the night grew rather fretting.

And those two close explosions at breakfast time were not a fair play at all.

However, the day was calm.

At the Club (in the Renderers') Arcadic made an invective speech before the audience of two (Rita and me) disparaging in details the dirty tricks his rival referred to during the elections.

Then Alia came and took the floor to share her hopes to escape from here by a chopper. The audience shrunk to one (me).

Lenic came with a story advertising smoking: one man got up in the dead of night and went out on his balcony to have a smoke—and that very moment an AlazanALAZAN —
     a missile contrivance for destroying hailstorm clouds which was easily converted into artillery weapon in the initial stages of the Karabakh war 1991-1994.
ripped through his bedstead.

Then he (Lenic) asked me about the paper slip I keep on my desk with hieroglyphs on it. I explained that it's a quotation in Sanskrit I copied from the Bhagavat-Gita: "Koorah karmah somahchahrah", which means 'Do what you do properly'.

To fill up my empty hours at the Club I settled on rendering of Azimov's FOUNDATION AND EARTH there.

After lunch one page from ULYSSES.
Then I went to the Underground.

The constant out-flow of the townsfolk fleeing from the bombardments to far off villages has put the number of the Underground inhabitants on a noticeable decrease.

The mother-in-law found vacant places in a more rat-proof compartment. I moved their beds over to the new location.

Yoga.
Supper.

A talk with Sahtik. She said she was tired.
(Which is quite understandable when you are constantly worked up and waiting for those damned bangs to start their bloody din. It can't but wear you out.)
And, to her mind, Montaigne was right in saying that death is not the worst thing in the world.

I answered that, to my mind, she's too young to meddle with all those damn philosophizings. And, to reduce the inner tension the righteous thing to do is just not to want too much.

I, for one, had only one desire: let the shelling begin no sooner as all they are in the relative safety of Underground.

Well, right now they are over there, I am here, and the explosions - outdoors.

High time for the water-walk.

Good night.

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