After the full moon
Since yesterday I read in the bus. That is, I am no longer always on the hat. Like a wounded animal. Since today steige I over. Unbekümmert. Of the bus into the streetcar. Or take at the stop „Sielanka” [(village) the idyll] to the empty 134 (it brought the first cart-load of children into the zoo-logical garden and gets now new passengers from the city). Courageously. Instead of waiting on the overcrowded 192 from the airport to. Yesterday the gardner with its was noisy to the heavy backpack installed hose erbärmlich. The dear long day. Pustete it approximately around the mansion all flower patches, rose discounts, sidewalks, drives, parking lots and lawns freely of the ballast, which the tired beeches had thrown off over the weekend. And there the last nights, was not he drizzled any longer so simply from the hand. Humidity. Rot. Wetness. Heavy one. It dragged actually that terribly roar-ends engine on the back around. From morning till night. I wanted to make sure. And crept it after. He did not notice me. He did not hear anything. Neither honking cars nor TAP-send bears. On its ears Schoner lay. Thickness. Gold-yellow, like enormous sunflowers. To both sides of the head. Today is it dead quiet. I sit with Nazar, the poet by molder from Lemberg, in the kitchen. He drinks coffee. I herb dte. „The gardner has today probably freely”, legend I. In order to say something. „No”, Nazar contradicts. Decided. „He works. I observe it from my room. It blew all putrid sheets on a large heap. Now it draws it up on a kilometer-long nylon cord. It stretches those by all trees in the park. Hangs sheets up like we dripping laundry. To the sun. To drying. “ Yesterday afternoon in the cinema of acre „Lawa”. With approximately five other lost souls. The film exerted me very much. Also the full moon. And my days. That succeeded to me again once marvelously. First headache in Krakau. Lawa is the last film, which Konwicki made. Direction led. Film script written. Gustaw Holoubek plays the old Visionär and poet (the same, which is momentarily on the Krakauer market place so lonely), which return to Lithuania. As young the actor in this role looks. Today I think all day long about it, why the last film of Konwicki (Lawa) so completely differently actual completely different kind of artistic summary as it were - than the last book of Konwicki (Pamflet well siebie - lampoon over me). And why do I think about it? There is nothing to absolutely compare here. What has to mean?
