"Too many questions, doll, for me,
just come quickly - you will see.
Let's get going - time won't wait,
our journey is a long one yet.
But what's that in your right hand, dear?"
"I'm carrying some books of prayer."
"Throw them out, those kind of books
are heavier than piles of rocks!
Throw them out and walk with ease,
if you want to keep up with me."
He takes and tosses them to the side,
then leaps with her a good ten miles.
And their way winds through the highlands,
desolate forest and craggy sands,
through gorges and over cliffs,
and wild bitches bark and sniff,
and all the birds broadcast the news
that unhappiness draws close.
And he always before her - leap by leap -
she follows after, step by step.
Among the rosehips where stones glint,
beside the hawthorns, over flint;
everywhere the white feet move,
there remain traces of blood.