2022.11.7（月）
番外編
I do remember, however, with heartbreaking vividness ,a certain evening in the summer of 1917 when ,after a winter of incomprehensible separation ,I chanced to meet Tamara on a suburban train. For a few minutes between two stops, in the vestibule of a rocking and rasping car, we stood next to each other, I in a state of intense embarrassment, of crushing regret, she consuming a bar of chocolate, methodically breaking off small, hard bits of the stuff, and talking of the office where she worked. On one side of the tracks, above bluish bogs, the dark smoke of burning peat was mingling with the smoldering wreck of a huge, amber sunset. It can be proved, I think, published records that Alexander Block was even then noting in his diary the very peat smoke I saw, and the wrecked sky. There was later a period in my life when I might have found this relevant to my last glimpse of Tamara as she turned on the steps to look back at me before descending into the jasmin-scented, cricket-mad dusk of a small station; but today no alien marginalia can dim the purity of the pain.
ナボコフ。SPEAK MEMORY.
ロシア人だが原文も英文で書かれている。
若く、深く愛し合った二人が電車で再会。その際。
私はナボコフは20世紀最大の作家のひとりと考える。
フランスのセリーヌと共に。
きのう、データを整理していて発見。
