Читать книгу Border and Word Breakthrough - Helmut Lauschke - Страница 11

Dark eyes look dull with black faces,

because black is the skin of the looking people.

The star sparkles in the glassy hazy darkness under withered grass thinned ruffled eyebrows.

Before he realizes it breaks the beam, one of the distant ancestors in the kraal, who built and honored and cared for him.

Cattle and goats and many others leave the fence at the moment when the clouds gather black over the dark eye.

The wind is coming up. Announcement and worry go through the nose. Deep in the lungs already the storm is breathing with its consequences.

The stick breaks to pieces, the foot stumbles on the stone.

Next to it are remnants of the sacrifice from the distant past.

From the sky it roars down, lightning and thunder smash the remains to pieces before the next, before the star, the familiar and dreaded, grayish-ruffled eyebrows thinned out in the glassy darkness under the withered grass, begins to sparkle again.