ICH HATTE EINEN KAMERADEN
First the snowdrifts began to get covered with a dirty gray stubble, and then during the day when the sun was shining big chunks of snow started slipping down from the roofs and cornices with rustling, muffled sounds. Bulging green garbage bags appeared on torn-up black lawns, scrawny crows jumping about between them, and finally the tiny sabers of grass pierced through the ground — the cheerful spring cavalry. I stood among mournful people who held obediently still at the street crossing, and sneezed with great pleasure. An old man next to me held an ice- cream cone in both hands, and whenever he tried to bite into it his hands shook. The cars drove by, and then the light turned.
I was in a courtyard on the outskirts of Moscow, the 5th Magistralnaya Street or s
