Soveyet-Rus yazar Nikolay Alekseyevic Ostrovskiy’nin dogum yildonumu (29 Eylul 1904)
“Sinir dediginiz, uzerinde ayri levhalar tasiyan iki karsilikli direk demektir. Sessiz ve dusman, iki ayri dunyayi ozetleyerek bakisirlar orada. Asagidan yukariya dogru sivrilen, titizlikle budanmis bir agac govdesidir biri, siyah-beyaza boyalidir, bir polis kulubesi gibi. Yirtici bir kus vardir ucunda, kanatlarini alabildigine acmis, pusunun heyecaniyla gagasi daha da oburlasmis bir halde, karsisindaki madeni kalkana dikmistir karanlik bakislarini. Kalkan, topraga iyice yerlesmis dort kose kalin bir mesenin zirvesindedir. Ve bir orakla bir cekic parildamaktadir bu dovme demirden kalkanin uzerinde. Aralarinda alti adim ya vardir ya yoktur ve dumduzdur toprak altlarinda, yataydir, puruzsuzdur, ama bakmayin siz. Aslinda bir ucurum ayirmaktadir bu direkleri. Ve hic kimse, hayatini tehlikeye atmaksizin, bu kisa mesafeyi asamaz.”
“This is the frontier – two posts facing one another in silent hostility, each standing for a world of its own. One of them is planed and polished and painted black and white like a police box, and topped by a single-headed eagle nailed in place with sturdy spikes. Wings outspread, claws gripping the striped pole, hooked beak tensely outstretched, the bird of prey stares with malicious eyes at the cast-iron shield with the sickle and hammer emblem on the opposite pole – a sturdy, round, rough-hewn oak post planted fi rmly in the ground. The two poles stand on level ground, yet there is a deep gulf between them and the two worlds they stand for. You cannot cross the intervening six paces except at the risk of your life.”
—Bu aksam ne okuyoruz bakalim?
—Kitapci kapaliydi, kitap alamadim.
—Bayram degil, seyran degil, neden kapaliymis?
—Jandarmalar alip goturmusler adami. Soylendigine gore, yasak kitap bulmuslar.
—Yasak kitap da neymis? diye sordu Klimka.
—Yasak kitap demek politika demekmis, soylendigine gore.
—Politika mi dedin? Politika da ne demek kuzum?
Pavka omuzlarini silkti:
—Ben de pek iyi bilmiyorum ama, soylendigine gore, Car’a karsi cikarsan politika olurmus.
Klimka sicramisti korkudan.
—Vay anasini, demek boyle adamlar da var!..
—Ne bileyim var mi yok mu…
—Aren’t we going to read today? he asked Pavel.
—There’s nothing to read,” Pavel replied. “The bookstall’s closed.
—Why should it be closed today? Klimka wondered.
—The gendarmes picked up the bookseller. Found something on him, Pavel replied.
—Picked him up? What for?
—For politics, they say.
Klimka stared at Pavel, unable to grasp his meaning.
—Politics. What’s that?
Pavel shrugged his shoulders.
—The devil knows! They say it’s politics when you go against the tsar.
Klimka looked startled.
—Do people do that sort of thing?
—I dunno, replied Pavel



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