Russian Poetry & Sushi

While in Paris, I spent one evening with my roommate Bevin. We've both been devouring books during our stay in France. As part of our evening out, we visited the only completely English bookstore in Paris. It's called Shakespeare & Company. It was a delightful discovery. The store is owned and operated by people who hale from the British Isles and obviously speak English. http://www.shakeaspeareco.org & for a virtual tour see: http://www.sav.org/shco/

It's a small bookstore across the river from Notre Dame. It was warm and brightly lit--the books were packed in wooden shelves from floor to ceiling--and on tables and stacked in boxes and crates. There's also a lazy cat who lives and naps among the books, although I didn't catch him reading.

I restricted myself to purchasing one book as imagined my suitcase being even MORE over the restricted weight. However, I copied down a poem from a book.

While browsing in the back of the store, I came upon the Russian section--full of Russian history, literature, non-fiction, poetry--most translated into English (some not). I picked upa collection of Russian poems. Inside, I found a short poem that I immediately loved (I've always preferred short poems), and so I copied it down.

After our visit to Shakespeare & Company, we made our way to a sushi restaurant that Bevin found. Bevin and I both enjoy sushi, so it was a treat to share it. It was the first time that I had sushi in about two months. We sat outside and enjoyed the view of the passing Parisians and tourists; we talked about books and told stories. The waitress spilled wine on my lap, but I didn't mind. I just laughed it off. The duck skewers were amazing.

And now that I have recounted this event, I will leave you with above mentioned poem.

We are a pair, close
as the right hand
holding the left.

We are one, warm
as the right wing
enfolding the left.

But the whirlwind
carves a crater
between us,
and nothing is
left.

--Marina Tsvetaeva