Vladimir Nabokov looking out of his car holding a frankly primitive pencil.
弗拉基米尔·纳博科夫在他的车内看向外面,手里拿着一只非常原始的铅笔。
Every day, holding a pencil on paper graffiti. However, it is always not draw the curvature of the corner of your mouth. Why? Is it I did not give you happiness?
每天,拿着铅笔在纸上对你涂鸦。可是,总是画不出你嘴角的弧度。为什么?难道是我还没有给你幸福吗?
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