“There is nothing in the world…”
There is nothing in the world more beautiful than the shore of the White Sea. It is as if a slow, sweet poison trickles into the soul of anyone who sees the light-colored, whitish sky here, the water as clear as if it were from a spring. This stony gray cavity that meekly offers up its gently sloping body and gratefully accepts the gentle caress of the water. These rumbling beaches strewn with pebbles, these round stones that the sea rolls around incessantly, plays with them, and, as a result, this rumble does not cease, not even for a second, and you think to yourself involuntarily, “Don’t joke like that, mother sea.” These underwater kingdoms, a flickering paradise pierced by the sun, like the light calico of a woman’s dress in spring is pierced by a man
