Mittwoch, 27. August 2014

A man fishes in a gloomy lake



A man fishes in a gloomy lake
Has somebody on the line
Becomes frightened

Runs off
Trails the other one on the fishing line afterwards

Registers only in his cabin that he still hangs on his fishing line
Throws the entanglement disgusted into the corner
First of all he warms his cauldron and makes for himself a grog

While drinking the grog he looks at the heap in the corner
Refills his cup
Makes towards it with the cup in his hand
Squats down
Arranges the with the fishing line entangled bones
Wraps the bone man into a blanket
Leaves the cup of grog for him
Lies down for the night

The spirits of the other one revive gradually
He drinks the grog
Warms himself wrapped up in the blanket at the fire
Brings life back to his mind

Lies down to the angler under the blanket
Lies his ear at the heart of the angler
Beats the rhythm of his heart onto whose breast
And while their two rhythms unite
Muscles grow again on the bones of the bone man
Are muscles enwrapped with skin and hair
Pulsates again life through his body

As they awake in the morning
It is for them
Like it would be the first morning of their lives
New, genuine, a new beginning
And the world shines in its colours


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