Pig Earth

Áttekintés

Here is a place that is nought but dust and the wind which stirs it. Here in this place there is no life. Here in this place there is no life but that which clings to the dust upon the wind which stirs it. That which clings to the dust upon the wind which stirs it does not know why it clings to such dust. That with no urge to know why it clings to such dust lives in innocence. That with an urge to know why it clings to such dust lives in guilt. What lives in guilt is guilty to the dust. What lives in guilt is guilty to history. What lives in guilt is guilty to itself.