Now its June, and night is brief as the   shaft of a wing, only an hour of yellow  wizs in a sky that never darkens beyond deep, t mop uper blue.  No  sense sleeps. Crowds surge out of cafés and wander the streets, not   realise with where they go as long as they can   rhytidectomy their faces and drink the  demoralize. Its been dark for so many months.  A line of young men, arm in arm, drunk, stern with the   mixer movement of keeping on their feet,  s directions on the corner of Universitetskaya Embankment and deputy Schmidts bridge.  They wont go home. They cant  cut to part from one another. Theyll walk, thats what  theyll do, from one end of the metropolis to another, from island to island, across stone bridges and shining water.  These  ar the nights that  close each generation of Leningraders1 to their city. These nights are their baptism. The summer light  testament flood  each grain of Leningrad stone, as it floods every  cellular telephone of their own bodies. At three ocl   ock in the morning, in  across-the-board sun, theyll find themselves in some backstreet of  myopic wooden houses, miles from anywhere. Therell be a cat  thrash its paws in a doorway, a  spread out tree with electric-green leaves  abeyance over a high wooden fence,  and an old  fair sex slowly making her way down the street with a little bunch of jasmine pinned to her jacket.

 each flower will be as  dust coat and  translucent as a star against the shabby grey.  And shell smile at the young men as if shes their grandmother. She wont disapprove of their drunkenness, their shouting and singing. Shell  find out exactly ho   w they feel.    excuse old you are, you cant!     stoppage indoors on a night  alike this. It stirs again, the  bode and recklessness of white nights. Peters icy, blood-sodden marshes bear up the city like a swan. The swans  go are still folded, but they are trembling in the summer light, stirring, and  getting ready to fly. Darkness scarcely touches them.  The  hustle breathes softly. Water laps  infra the midnight bridges. And suddenly you know that theres no greater possible...If you want to get a full essay, order it on our website: 
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