Gledespunkter (traducere în Engleză)
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Points of Pleasure
I like early mornngs that have just begun to unravel the day.
A paperboy cycles his route.
Far away a trailer-truck starts up and chaffinches open the little chest with their song.
A crow, the tousled fellow, flies low against the west wind.
With wings like broken broomsticks it washes the soot from the clouds, so a smooth rain washes the city.
Every now and then it inspects the streets like a rough outlier, it examines the neat people, the newbought cars and says kra!, unintelligible speech for shit ouch!
I like him.
I like politicians too.
And other carnivores.
Those of them who dare to lift the hind foot, piss on the pulpit and confess that power is a good leg to gnaw at.
I like them.
And also voices, which rumble from barrels and oildrums, I like.
They heave a robust laughter up from the lungs and grease the larynx with a half-pint of life.
Before koyetid rocks the little ones, sleepy word on the knee.
Even the upstarts I like:
Raw power and pure biology.
A blind rhino with ears
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