Ансамбль танца

Folk dance

Poster of speeches

Subtitle

Waking up one morning after a restless sleep, Gregor Zamza found that he was in his bed turned into a terrible insect.

Lying on his hardy back, he could see him lifting his head, his brown, bulging, belly-shaped abdomen divided by arched scales, at the top of which there was hardly a blanket ready to slip completely.

His numerous, poorly thin legs compared to the rest of the body, helplessly swarmed before his eyes. “What happened to me?” “He thought. It was not a dream.

His room, real, except that it was too small, but an ordinary room, peacefully rested in its four familiar walls.

Above the table, where the unpacked samples of the cloth were spread – Zamza was a traveling salesman, – hung a portrait, which he had recently carved from an illustrated magazine and inserted into a beautiful gilt frame.

Subtitle

Waking up one morning after a restless sleep, Gregor Zamza discovered that he was in his bed turned into a terrible insect.

Lying on his hardy back, he could see him lifting his head, his brown, bulging, belly-shaped abdomen divided by arched scales, at the top of which there was hardly a blanket ready to slip completely.

 

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