On a bus Im going. Its bright down-town but very few people can be
seen. The shops are already closed and there aren't very many places to
go for a walk. I am riding. Enormous bulks of dark buildings then black
narrower streets with lower houses go. Away Im sailing, my boat is small.
I used to like it all: "There far ahead" Now I dont care.
A narrow hole man digs. A mistake has been hanging over our lives. Everyone
seems to have lived for something. Well, everyone... he who always looks
for excuses... A street, winter, darkness, dull window-panes, shadows behind
them... One is eating and drinking, another is sleeping, another is shouting
at the children I keep driving. At first I thought over the way to escape
darkness There had to be some light over there ahead... The bus jerks,
something has clattered under the wheels. I see rails and a switch tower
with a yellowish light in it Halt! Whos there? Who?.. Away it has floated.
The darkness again I am driving. I thought there were bright towns...
the sky... and the only thing I had needed was to escape from here. No,
blackness and darkness are inside me.
There is a man in the bus. We are two. An old man, his face is yellow:
- Speak to me...
I dont want to speak to him.
- I am scared
I am scared too, but we have nothing to speak of... nothing.
- I live with my wife she looks after the house sleeps at night...
I lie in bed. Am I thinking?.. No, the waves are rocking me the awe is
rocking me What will happen to her if I die We vanish away into the dark.
Was it always this way? We did have faith... flied to light You are young,
get out of here, g-e-t o-u-t... everything is poisoned here Id like to
believe in Doomsday. Everyone will be brought to book However, I dont
believe in it either
- Why... You cant think so, old chap...
I bend over... he is already asleep. No, no, no! I wont go as far
as the next stop let me get off The lights, town, voices, songs, laughter,
small adventures and devilry, even some success, proud are all behind long
ago We have no ground under our feet. There are no excuses Oh, dont
Let it be a dream! I am feeling bright light on my face; someone is patting
my shoulder. You ticket, sir, please! Eh! How well! Yes, certainly, the
ticket. Here it is, h-e-r-e And what about the old man? His face is white
he is smiling
- Are you feeling well? But I am scared. Talk to me