
I will bow down to the time: a woolen ball that tumbles from intermingled threads. At the bottom of the hill, I will read very long words that are not often spoken until Sunday. Then I will rest.

I will bow down to the time: a woolen ball that tumbles from intermingled threads. At the bottom of the hill, I will read very long words that are not often spoken until Sunday. Then I will rest.

Je m’inclinerai devant le temps : une balle de laine, qui déboule de fils en fils entremêlés. Au bas de la colline, je lirai des mots très longs, qu’on ne prononce pas souvent jusqu’au dimanche. Puis je me reposerai.