Читать книгу Border and Word Breakthrough - Helmut Lauschke - Страница 7

In the shafts continue to drive up and down, pull the ropes with the weight of melancholy with high.

It needs the strong foot on the brake, if not everything is to collapse at the bottom.

On the way down the thoughts go up, if there is enough food in the families.

During the squeaking up in the winter, the memory lingers in the gallery below, asking whether there is enough coal to heat up at home.

Baskets slide rumbling past each other, so do the thoughts and conjectures that blindly cross, collide and hit one another, that it could be a living conversation if there were fewer walls and more light.

Ebrök, Bröke, o distant bridge of the understanding of words, language and thoughts. Listen, listen to the song and let the wavering, along the way cramp the calves by the accident until it dawns above the horizon and in the heads.