О дивный новый мир

           "Firstofall,"saidMitsima,takingalumpofthewettedclaybetweenhishands,"wemakealittlemoon."Theoldmansqueezedthelumpintoadisk,thenbentuptheedges,themoonbecameashallowcup.

           Slowlyandunskilfullyheimitatedtheoldman’sdelicategestures.

           "Amoon,acup,andnowasnake."Mitsimarolledoutanotherpieceofclayintoalongflexiblecylinder,troopeditintoacircleandpresseditontotherimofthecup."Thenanothersnake.Andanother.Andanother."Roundbyround,Mitsimabuiltupthesidesofthepot;itwasnarrow,itbulged,itnarrowedagaintowardstheneck.Mitsimasqueezedandpatted,strokedandscraped;andthereatlastitstood,inshapethefamiliarwaterpotofMalpais,butcreamywhiteinsteadofblack,andstillsofttothetouch.ThecrookedparodyofMitsima’s,hisownstoodbesideit.Lookingatthetwopots,hehadtolaugh.

           "Butthenextonewillbebetter,"hesaid,andbegantomoistenanotherpieceofclay.

           Tofashion,togiveform,tofeelhisfingersgaininginskillandpower–thisgavehimanextraordinarypleasure."A,B,C,VitaminD,"hesangtohimselfasheworked."Thefat’sintheliver,thecod’sinthesea."AndMitsimaalsosang–asongaboutkillingabear.Theyworkedallday,andalldayhewasfilledwithanintense,absorbinghappiness.

           "Nextwinter,"saidoldMitsima,"Iwillteachyoutomakethebow."

           Hestoodforalongtimeoutsidethehouse,andatlasttheceremonieswithinwerefinished.Thedooropened;theycameout.