Maxim Gorky

The Cemetery

In a town of the steppes where I found life exceedingly dull, the best and the brightest spot was the cemetery. Often did I use to walk there, and once it happened that I fell asleep on some thick, rich, sweet-smelling grass in a cradle-like hollow between two tombs. From that sleep I was awakened […]

In A Mountain Defile

In a mountain defile near a little tributary of the Sunzha, there was being built a workman’s barraque– a low, long edifice which reminded one of a large coffin lid. The building was approaching completion, and, meanwhile, a score of carpenters were employed in fashioning thin planks into doors of equal thinness, knocking together benches […]

On A River Steamer

The water of the river was smooth, and dull silver of tint. Also, so barely perceptible was the current that it seemed to be almost stagnant under the mist of the noontide heat, and only by the changes in the aspect of the banks could one realize how quietly and evenly the river was carrying […]


The timber-built town of Buev, a town which has several times been burnt to the ground, lies huddled upon a hillock above the river Obericha. Its houses, with their many-colored shutters, stand so crowded together as to form around the churches and gloomy law courts a perfect maze–the streets which intersect the dark masses of […]

The Icebreaker

On a frozen river near a certain Russian town, a gang of seven carpenters were hastily repairing an icebreaker which the townsfolk had stripped for firewood. That year spring happened to be late in arriving, and youthful March looked more like October, and only at noon, and that not on every day, did the pale, […]