Der gelbe Wagen

We are standing in front of the old theater in Narva. It is still winter and snowing. An old man comes out of one of the theater doors and speaks to us in a deep, warm voice in Russian. We only understand his gestures. We don't know his name, so we call him Vassili, like the great old theater.

تُعرض النبذة بالإنجليزية لعدم توفر ترجمة بعد.