Taras Pysar
Tchaikovsky, Hitler and the blue-yellow rider
“You know those ducks in that lagoon right near Central Park South? That little lake? By any chance, do you happen to know where they go, the ducks, when it gets all frozen over? Do you happen to know, by any chance?”
I saddle my metal Chinese horse and set off. Yes, the harsh truth is that my motorcycle is Chinese. Former Ukrainian emeritus law teachers simply can’t afford a Japanese advanced motorcycle. However, just like in prison, you can be free, just as you can be happy traveling on a Chinese motorcycle.
Leaving the glorious city of Uman I go to the next city on my route – Vinnytsia, finally to the West (oh, East is East, and West is West, and never the twain shall meet).
