About the book: year / To the one who sleeps on the grave of the skald, his power will pass. But how can you sleep when huge August stars are shining overhead, the earth makes an alarming rumble from time to time, and the wind carries the smell of the distant sea? How to fall asleep when you spend so much time looking for that very word and can’t find it? It’s like you’re catching a magic bird, and you’ve already grabbed it by the tail, but when you unclench your fingers, all you can see in your palm are gray, broken, pitiful feathers, and the bird soars into the sky again.