Trafika Europe 7 - Ukrainian Prayer

Tango of Death

the smallest both in age and stature, and on top of that he was skinny, wore glasses, and carried a violin around with him. You can imagine the spectacle as he idly wandered with that violin that was almost bigger than he was, so we took care of him, because everyone wanted to insult this little shrimp. If I caught sight of him somewhere on the street, and if he weren’t my chum, I myself would have the impulse to stretch out my hand, tear off his cap, and throw it on a branch. You won’t find quite a character like him. When we first started to try smoking, it was none other than Yosko who brought us cigarettes that he stole from his music teacher, though he didn’t smoke, was a very obedient child, and it was not for nothing Mrs. Golda would say: “My Yoso! He’s a golden child! It’s too badhisdadcan’t takepleasure in him.” Yosko’s daddy was a

cooked beets and carrots, then – pastry pies filled with sauerkraut, then sour stuffed cabbage with grated potatoes, then Bavarian-style sausages, then fantasy layer tortes, single-layer cakes, and strudels and pretzels, whose aroma completely filled the house and tickled the nostrils. To school we also walked together, even though we weren’t the same age, but we always kept together so that no rowdy could cause us harm, and we all lived pretty close to each other. I with my mother and Yosko with Mrs. Golda on Klepariv Street, Yas with Mrs. Yadza on Brayerivska Street, a floor below the apartment of Dr. Lem, and Wolf with Mrs. Rita on Horodotska Street. We always met up at the Cathedral of St. Anne, and from there went off in a wave wherever we wanted. Of the four of us Yosko was

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