Literature : - essay - / translation ,engl. from our book , title: central WG | 2 ,page 32 The stone way of the woodworm yet as me the gong throat in the forehead stand it´s a tie up wish I must my entry give reason for as the peal of bells out of it one have I´m not more secure wether I still clean had hands the grip get cautious which skin when the finger themselves bending will old the shop is so little and the shelves as great the eyeball which store assistant in purse one´s angle while depraved land come cannot have clean finger with wash had as not to do who how lasting decades misery see had and who at all and all out of the surroundings out of it passed had the have as dirt striped at the behind the temple which streak not drip as carry into skull the thread out sad eat away dung and have got to him showing at as damson faces the out of in the middle cut the way of the woodworm show must the inherit leave not address back but behind me hearing I frostly wide distorted laughing straight in a small store in the overall view as not much object as in distance between each other preserve have to smell in way of the woodworm showing now as where out of must when all because it so look after will as unsafed lie here at there where out of appearance have got to at a single human being have to I me in front of suffocating the muck on the fingers know in a land into at the as poverty at surroundings will take it not to knowledge not single out of count someone as a friend not into the land in life according to agree years ago when with the head as eyes long enough in the lead someone astray count one also in life yourself not more the readness to dying is to great in a poorland so big how the possibility to little thing offer than you it can understand dying is one a chance the reason are everywhere where one seeing who make oneself as thought where as unluck now here can beginning because it not can where stop where calculate as with myself in longer period of time as you so more hate life can stay one youself in more than enough lend and other more know you as one it pile seeing accurate as press again when as poverty look than dirt how slime hang behind the temple belong you with it at misery the destitution will so permanent at a bad conscience how blame the rat crawl quiet through shelves sharpen with their sticky stomach over my way someone in my hidding place surround from empty bottles greaseproof paper silky handkerchief cardboard box cigarette butt seat I and cry the stroll bank manager deflea silent on the more water I the one change into realm of the dead one a get brown land at leave-taking a patronizing kiss then going him scan starwell rutting without desire and reprimand undecided a quick – temperad want he point dullness than welcome the fairytale world in one soul mirror small but sharp a clouding a milkglass into mind a assurance the middle of life scare off as children trust from all playing and and bad expression pull I me back I see as I me that in front of in eyes the sales-person thinking have in the fitting I draw my shirt out of a undershirt as me not belong that I me not wishes hanging besides me on clothes I button me it on one hurry me from its head at other because I know that one now not thinking not permitted the buttons up since at eyes I forbid me this thought as all in the small store on it prepared is that I on eye think the human being look one not in the face they keep someone busy yourself with price and numbers where small like many had at the tear too as little – change one calculation on the forehead the sadness as spreading prohibited the extended beauty then they catch on into the shadows as faces the poor seat on the place of the wishes that craving as is yet the edge the rich society perhaps is the prosperity a circle bigger than the middle |