Again the flying horses, the strange voice of drunken Nicanor, the wind and the persistent snow which got into one's eyes, one's mouth, and every fold of one's fur coat...The wind whistled, the coachmen shouted; and while this frantic uproar was going on, I recalled all of the details of that strange wild day, unique in my life, and it seemed to me that I really had gone out of my mind or become a different man. It was as though the man I had been till that day were already a stranger to me...A quarter of an hour later his horses fell behind and the sound of his bells were lost in the roar of the snowstorm.
A day so happy.
Fog lifted early, I worked over honeysuckle flowers.
There was no thing on earth that I wanted to possess.
I knew no one worth my envying him.
Whatever evil I had suffered, I forgot.
To think that once I was the same man did not embarrass me.
In my body I felt no pain.
When straightening up, I saw the blue sea and sails.