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Arsenyev's life

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작성자 Fisher 작성일 23-02-23 10:53 조회 67 댓글 0

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What use are the people of Yamarikit to me? I am often frightened and surprised, but what can I do? A very white cloud appeared from behind the birch forest, changing its outline from time to time. Can it not change? The bright woods flowed and swayed, and ran somewhere with a sleepy rustle. To where and why? Can you stop it? I closed my eyes, and I felt vaguely that everything was a dream, an incomprehensible dream! Whether it is the city beyond the distant fields, whether it is the city in which I must inevitably stay, whether it is my future in that city, or whether it is my past in Kamenka, whether I am myself, my thoughts, dreams, feelings-everything is a dream! Is it a sad, heavy dream? No, after all,75 smart board, it's still a happy and relaxed dream. As if to confirm this, there was a sudden bang of a gun behind me, which rolled like a clattering hoop over the whole wood, and then there was a particularly violent scream and cackle, which was obviously the cry of a large group of startled birds and the ecstatic bark of Chalma. This must be a shot fired by my father who woke up. So I immediately abandoned all my thoughts and ran desperately to him to pick up the dead, bloody and warm birds,smart board interactive whiteboard, which smelled of wild birds and gunpowder. Part II 1-5 One The day I left Kamenka, I didn't know I would never come back. When I was sent to the middle school, I took a road that I had never taken before, the Chernavsk Avenue. For the first time, I felt the poetry of the forgotten roads, the ancient style of Russia that was about to disappear. Many boulevards are out of date, and Chernavsk Avenue is no exception. Its former ruts were covered with grass, and the broad and barren roadbed, with old white willows on either side, looked lonely and desolate. I especially remember a white willow tree, whose trunk was damaged by thunder and lightning, interactive digital whiteboard ,75 inch smart board, covered with big holes and small holes, and on the branch crouched a big crow, like a piece of black, charred wood. Father said that crows can live for hundreds of years, and this crow probably existed during the rule of the Tartars. This statement surprised me so much that I could hardly imagine.. What was the charm of what he said, and how did I feel at the time? Do you feel the existence of Russia and feel that she is my motherland? Or do I feel a close relationship with the past, distant and common cause? This cause not only opens our hearts and expands our personal lives, but also reminds us to participate in it. My father said that Mamai himself had walked through this area. He destroyed our city along the way to Moscow. Later, at the Stanov station we were about to pass, Mamai was finally captured, and then, instead of letting him die, he was dragged to death with a horse. Not long ago Stanov Station was a large village famous for bandits, and especially for a terrible murderer named Mitka. I remember, just at this moment, between Stannoff Station and us, a train I had never seen before was running on the left side of the Avenue. Behind us, the sun, which was about to set, still stubbornly shone on the small but perky locomotive. The locomotive, like a wind-up toy, sped straight to the city and passed us. A thick smoke rose from the chimney of the big head and dragged behind it like a tail. The sun shone on the green, yellow and blue carriages. The smoke mingled with the rolling wheels under the carriage. The front of the car and the carriage, the windows reflecting the sunset, the wheels rolling rapidly and monotonously-all this is so magical and interesting that I really want to live in that carriage! But I remember clearly that what attracted me more at that time was the mysterious and terrible willows that were faintly visible outside the railway of Stanov Station. I imagined what had happened inside in the past, the Tartars, Mamai, Mikica.. There is no doubt that on this evening, I realized for the first time that I was Russian and lived in Russia, not just in Kamenka, in a certain county or province.
I suddenly felt this Russia, her past and present, her barbaric and terrible but, after all, breathtaking characteristics,touch screen whiteboard, and my blood relationship with her. —————— Mamai, the khanate of the Golden Horde, fled to Crimea after his defeat in 1380 and was killed in Kafa. Two Everything I experienced in my boyhood was purely Russian. hsdsmartboard.com

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