A Hero of Our Time: Postscript

On coming home, I got up on my horse and galloped into the steppe, for I love riding a spirited horse through the tall grass, with the desert wind in my face, greedily drinking in the fragrant air and looking into the blue distance to see hazy outlines of objects that grow more distinct every moment. Whatever sorrow weighs down the heart or anxiety plagues the mind, it is all immediately dispersed, and a peace settles over the soul as physical fatigue prevails over mental unrest. There are no feminine eyes I would not forget when gazing on the mountains covered with curly shrubs, bathed in the southern sunshine, contemplating the blue sky, or listening to the roar of the torrent falling from crag to crag.

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About Pechorin

A Hero of Our Time
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One Response to A Hero of Our Time: Postscript

  1. Pingback: Your Questions About Best Books Ever | I-want-to-buy-a-book.

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