My travel to Kraka

Monday - and in Japan holiday. With us also. But where is that? With us? The all-dearest roundish citizen of Berlin wakes up itself in Stralsund, during I of the seats in the Privatbus crimping, last in Gorlice already on one, which us fürsorglich after Krakau will bring. At 11 o'clock I sit at my computer at the desk under the roof. Few minutes later my room telephone rings. We celebrate 142 months marriage, i.e. like had 142 moons. On the evening market place the Halbmond hangs over the Krakauer. A completely short instant it only appears, while I wait at the corner of the shoemaker route for A. The Japanese tearing off calendar came with me to Krakau. The calendar for only one day. For in each case the today's. The time drops from it, like the multicolored sheets of the trees in the park. Each day free I it from, transparent, schmalgesichtigen Papierchen of yesterday and the thin, in order to remain up to date. The today's calendar sheet shows red ten. Thus Monday, tenth of the current monthly - and holiday. In Japan. The language already won. I write, think, speak, am silent, sleep Polish. And translate into German. Everything. Dreams. Are astonished. Awkward sentences. In Kwiatonowice right I whispering leaves under the old Kastanienbaum together. Also it let its untenable fruits become burst on my head. From defiance I collected it in, a whole basket fully, poured her into my jerk set. And it carried into my room under the roof. It brought my Engelin and Wasserspenderin as a victim. I do not understand, for example, the grammatical logic in the following sentence: „Badacze stosujący metodę biograficzną zwracają uwagę, że dzienniki osobiste są materiałem trudnym DO pozyskania.” (literally and unpleasantly: The biographic method using researcher it points out that personal diaries are investigation materials which can be procured with difficulty.). The problem exists only in the two first words of the Polish sentence. However „Badacze” (researcher) is in my grammar understanding a noun in the Plural, „stosujący” (using) a verb form (or an adjective form, knows the devil, here lies probably the dog buried) in the Singular. My maximumpersonal on Mondays mystery: Why is like that? I asked Kasper - whom otherwise could I have asked in this country? - to procure to me a Polish teacher or a Polish teacher.

In the room under the roof it is very quiet. Although early in the morning the gardners the park clean. Trees cut. Leaves wegpusten. With a roaring hose, which does not suck, like the vacuum cleaner at home, but blows. But me it is in the room with the Engelin, which no word of itself gives, with their watering can fully rain water in the left hand, much too quiet. I called Mrs. Krakowska on whom otherwise I in Krakau have called could? And it asked whether she had not coincidentally a radio, which does not need. It me for three months check-out counters could. It has and can. It brought me in the morning into the mansion. A radio to the bed. With bell. Alarm. Buzzer. Slumber. And different programs. I was not allowed to hear. It carried me forward. Back into the city. To the meal. Buy. Dte-drink. Evenly typically Mrs. Krakowska. In the afternoon I wanted to drive to Kwiatonowice. The bus station is because of construction work now to the Nullo or Zistersienserstrasse. Directly before the house by Mrs. Krakowska.

I got a Engelin given. It fell like Manna of the sky. The Krakauer Engelin with watering can. It is not an ethereal shape. Separate had minted female attributes. A geblümtes dress and an apron with enormous bags carries. In the left hand it holds a watering can. My Engelin is Linkshänderin. On the back fastened, like an oversized backpack, like a parachutist, wing from rough linen. Now the Krakauer Engelin with watering can protects me. It guards my window, which is not part of the wall, but the roof. My window to the sky. I live under the roof. In the early awake I up and stares into the sky. During the day I write and stare into the sky. I think and stare into the sky. Be silent and stare into the sky. The Engelin pours my thoughts such as spring rains. The tree, which grew over the house and beyond my imaginative power, throws its dry sheets off. On me. And at the night its ungeniessbaren heavy fruits.

I arrived at Kraka. My first impression: the smell of the earth. As I before the mansion Decius stood and into the evening sky looked. Dampness earth in the nose. And autumn leaves on the face skin. Years ago I arrived similarly, although completely differently, any times for the first time in the Tropics. That was my first thought. In Kraka. The exhaustion of the arrival is not to be away-slept in one night. In the early I looked for the fog in the park, found Chopin in bronze and completed my first Tai Chi on holprigem forest soil. Afterwards I moved furniture, found cables, was suddenly in the Internet and already on the bicycle into the city. Hunger. The lunch. Pierogi and Surówka. The half market place is broken. Mickiewicz, the poet, stands lost between up-piled up new stones. The Gedrängel on that already „modernized “other half is giant large. My language holpert. Like the autumn soil under the city shoes. Like the Krakauer market place. Still a few hours, and the Polish has me. I live under the roof and hear the Kastanien of the trees fall.