The Rowing Flight
A colorful boat of beaded braids, golden locks of
curly hair sails through the Biltsche Grift
Chatter on the water opens languid eyes for a moment,
lying on the warm grass.
But suddenly the barge is silent.
The chips hang motionless.
Just the rustle of the water and the wind.
The boat continues unabated.
They see there with spunky noses: the big bad work factory.
A groan is heard from the windows.
at the foundations gnawing
Graffiti, who had liked to join
They row as if their lives depended on it, crash
into the bank, rolling into the kids playground
Peter le Nobel
Biltsche Grift, The Rowing Escape