How to reconcile this bloody BEHERENOW propaganda with embedded Slavic nostalgia? Even in most colourful NOW, the distant foggy THEN calls back like a devilish siren song…

…

Słowo daję, nie dla słowiańskiej duszy ta wschodnia Teraźniejszość w której każą być, gdy nawet w kolorowym TU to odległe, zamglone ÓWCZAS wzywa syrenią pieśnią, na zatracenie w otchłaniach pamięci.

crushing termites. being. waiting. sweating. cooking. chopping. shopping. sweeping. drinking. thinking. feeling. missing. seeing. walking. weeding. talking. trimming.

hanging.

…

co słychać, pyta Facebook. Głównie insekty w nocy.

“I live in this country now
I’m called by this name
I speak this language
It’s not quite the same
For no other reason
Than this it’s my home
And the places I used to be
Far from are gone
You’ve travelled this long
You just have to go on
Don’t even look back to see
How far you’ve come
Though your body is bending
Under the load
There is nowhere to stop
Anywhere on this road (…)

I love this hour
When the tide is just turning
There will be an end
To the longing and yearning
If I can stand up
To angels and men
I’ll never get swallowed
In darkness again”

[ Lhasa, "Anywhere on this road" ]