Explore "The Old House" by Fyodor Sologub on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
And now the evening is approaching. The sun is low and red. It looks straight into people's eyes as though, while expiring, it were begging for mercy. A breeze blows from the river, and it brings the laughter of white water nymphs.
A number of noisy urchins are running in the road; their shirttails flap merrily in the wind, while their sleeves are filled with wind like balloons. The sound of a harmonica comes from the distance, and its song runs on very merrily. The corncrake screeches in the field, and its call resembles a general's loud snore.