Symphony In Yellow by Oscar Wilde and its Russian interpretation by me

An omnibus across the bridge
Crawls like a yellow butterfly,
And, here and there, a passer-by
Shows like a little restless midge.

Big barges full of yellow hay
Are moored against the shadowy wharf,
And, like a yellow silken scarf,
The thick fog hangs along the quay.

The yellow leaves begin to fade
And flutter from the Temple elms,
And at my feet the pale green Thames
Lies like a rod of rippled jade.

1889 Continue reading

just to let you know that i’m still alive, but can’t really be too bothered


i’m doing fine, thank you. if you care, you haven’t heard that much about my life recently because i don’t quite think i’m in the right mood (or moon, i don’t know) now to just sit down and write something worthwhile. sorry. but i’m working on some new stuff like an interview with Hanka, the lead vocalist of Jarret, a local band, and a collection of Czech lives, including many interesting and fascinating stories such as Thom‘s one, for example. and there’s even more waiting for you, i suppose. Continue reading

UNBELIEVABLE ADVENTURES OF A BELIEVABLE RAINBOW – a small N.F. tribute waiting for you to criticise

we Russian fieldmice are about to create some kind of a present to the one and the only mr. Fielding by publishing a book or something that will be filled with all the hubba-bubba nightmares from our heads that Noel Fielding would be proud of. that’s the best i’ve come up with so far: Continue reading


Vladimir Nabokov’s definition of the Russian word “toska”.

Toska – noun /ˈtō-skə/ – Russian word roughly translated as sadness, melancholia, lugubriousness.

No single word in English renders all the shades of toska. At its deepest and most painful, it is a sensation of great spiritual anguish, often without any specific cause. At less morbid levels it is a dull ache of the soul, a longing with nothing to long for, a sick pining, a vague restlessness, mental throes, yearning. In particular cases it may be the desire for somebody of something specific, nostalgia, love-sickness. At the lowest level it grades into ennui, boredom.

yes, that’s exactly what my native language needs to be remembered for. that’s why we are all proud of our language, country, political state and everything. that’s why all Russians are so patriotic. definitely.

vodka, balalaika, bears and communism. and lots of toska.


continuing the topic of the internet stuff: charlieissocoollike

here comes my new favourite, Charlie the Coollike person!

proud to be ashamed to be British, outroed by Stephen Fry himself, having dyed his hair ginger red, big-blue-eyed, playing kazoo and ukelele, and claiming to be the real nerd, he’s one of people i usually tend to fall for. Continue reading

hello there


my name is Nica and i’m a sixteen-year-old female Russian lost in the blinding whiteness of the tundra. i decided to have a blog as some pretty good stuff is about to happen to me and i just need to share every single moment of it with somebody. i’m quite an outsider, and, frankly, i’m not even sure anyone’ll be reading all the crap i’m writing here at the moment.

every two or three months or so i seriously fall for an awesome dude from the screen. for a couple of years, there’ve been marc bolan, lee pace, dylan moran, tom hiddleston, four of the bealtes (which are john lennon, george harrison, ringo starr and stuart sutcliffe. i don’t know why, but i don’t really like macca), simon amstell, and others. for the time being, i’m hugely obsessed with noel fielding.

don’t know if there’s anything else i should write there.

love britain and everything connected with it.

live long and prosper,


p.s.: yes, he’s my current crush. and yes, he’s old and mature enough to have been someone’s dad already. being honest, i’d love to have such a dad