 | Only an independent observer would be able to judge nature, for example God. In this poem the independent power is the witch who cooks her soup of nature, she knows what ingredients she needs to add.
So the man and the woman are staing at the station, sitting at their table and tasting unknown alcoholic drinks, wishing they had the same feeling of joy that they had known before this all happened.
I was the only one at the beach, as it was too early and all the party people were still sleeping. After that I hired a motorcycle in order to drive around the island. I never drove before that. |
