“I’m not going to the North…”
I’m not going to the North for a long time now. It’ll be a long time before I even think about filling up with a full tank of gas at the cheapest fuel stop, turning the music up and driving so fast that my foot would involuntarily hit the brake, because I was just about to fly from the feeling of happiness and the long road ahead. I’m not going, because on that route the rivers are lying in wait for me. The first will be the Yelgamka, gurgling merrily over rocks, then the dark waters of the Idel will flow along tranquilly, the gloomy beauty of the Tunguda will appear among the spruce trees and the fickle Pongoma will completely tear your soul apart. Then the time will come for the cool Keret itself to question you and judge you according to your deeds.
I use
