“And we, you see, were fishing. He came up to us. I sat and sat. As if, he says, I'm bored. For the third day, my heart itched, and he left us. We are sitting under a willow tree - the breeze blew, so small... a breeze, a breeze. We look - a cloud is creeping across the sky... from Borkanov himself. So it takes, and so it takes... Passion! I came to the river..."