Vladimir Nabokov. La aguja del almirantazgo : Клуб изучающих испанский языкVladimir Nabokov. La aguja del almirantazgo
Vladimir Nabokov. THE ADMIRALTY SPIRE
eed and the crunch of her joints as she rummaged under the leaves. Forgive me if I pass directly from that orchard, floating by with the blinding gleam of its hothouses and the swaying of hairy poppies along its avenues, to the water closet where, in the pose of Rodin's Thinker, my head still hot from the sun, I composed my verse. It was dismal in all senses of the word, that verse; it contained the trills of nightingales from tzig&ne songs and bits of Blok, and helpless echoes of Verlaine: Souvenir, Souvenir, que me veux-tu? L'automne... —even though autumn was still far off, and my happiness shouted with its marvelous voice nearby, probably over there, by the bowling alley, behind the