Translation 1:

We are used to thinking that activity is a socially approved behaviour, while passivity is

condemned. From childhood we are taught about what a sin laziness is, that it was precisely

labour that created man, and therefore we should work hard. When we have a pause, a window,

we begin to worry and try to occupy ourselves with something. But if we suddenly do not have

neither the strength, nor the desire to do anything, we perceive such a condition as a dangerous

symptom, almost a disease, and we try to get rid of it, to cure ourselves, to run away from our

own laziness. But is it worth running away?

Sometimes the reluctance to do anything is the result of a physical or mental overload. Our

body refuses to obey and starts to protect itself. Suddenly we feel compelled to wallow on the

sofa with a book, to have a chat with friends on the phone, to scroll on social media, or just

sleep- oh the horror! - during the day. We feel guilty; we try to force ourselves to work. At the

same time, the quality of our work falls (which is unsurprising), our dissatisfaction with

ourselves grows, and in turn, this again leads to a decrease in efficiency - the result is a vicious

cycle. Often laziness, passivity, is a sign from our body: it is telling us that it is time to slow

down. It does not like to be mercilessly exploited, and it takes revenge with these diseases.

Therefore it is better to pay attention to your body and sometimes give in to laziness after all.

That’s how we restore the balance between activity and necessary rest.

We are willing to pay a lot of money to travel to ‘the beautiful far-away’. But, in fact, we are not

paying for the plane ticket or the overseas beach, but for the opportunity to relax: not to eat

food, to change the drab office suit for a colourful sun-dress, nor to clock-up the 25 obligatory

laps in the pool, nor to doze peaceful on a deck-chair under the sound of waves and the cries of

seagulls. But who is stopping us from making it a rule to organise ‘unwinding days’ for

ourselves, and only doing what we want during this time?

Translation 3:

Everyone was unhappy.

No one had said a word yet, but it was still clear that everyone was unhappy. The trouble began

the minute they arrived at the station. It was drizzling, and the clouds loomed low. The lake

dragged along, grey, dreary. And it turned out that as far as the Dolby estate, where two

families, the Nazarovs and the Kaminskys, were renting a Dacha, there was no road and no

horses could be obtained.

The train had left, and belongings, trunks, boxes, and mattresses sown into burlap lay on the

platform. The housekeeper Tyolka Pavlona was supporting her blind grandmother. Two boys

held a big dog by the chain. The elders were conferring. Thin Lily, in open shoes, was

contemptuously silent, looking away. She did not even open her umbrella, and the tall stalks of

the poppy on her hat dolefully swayed from the raindrops. With her contemptuously resigned

posture, Lily surely meant to say: “You wanted to do it your way, and that is fine. There is more

to come, and I am very glad…”

A cook and two maids stood on the side, near the belongings. All three were young girls. But

one, the tallest and largest, differed sharply in dress sense and manners from the other two.She

wore a cotton country jumper made from blackish-red lustrin, and large boots. She was silent

and looked deeply indifferent.

Finally, the matter became clearer. There was definitely no road to the Stolby’s. The women

visited the estate in the winter and went sledding along the frosted lakes and river. You could

reach there in an hour and a half. Now the only way to get there turned out to be via a little

steamboat. The steamboat was so small that it resembled a coffee pot. The passengers sat

around the engine, others sat on benches and on the firewood. The drive would take 4 hours.

Nothing could be done. The summer residents departed for the steamboat on a high

embankment. As if in agreement, no one expressed any disquiet, everyone stared sullenly and

was silent.