The recollections carried me further and further on. The night came back mo my memory when Tanya, the canary, her reasonable sister Nadya and I hatchelled hemp out of the canvas was woven out of which the pants I am parting now were sawn. The girls were singing a Moldavian song! And I was singing along, "cine vine dela via – Joanel cu palaria" ("Who is going from the vineyard? - Ionel hatted").
But what is it? I am hearing Moldavian here, in the Siberian taiga, not in my dreams or recollections!