:52:02
Don't the orators earn lots of money?
:52:05
We can't go. How can we?
:52:10
This is my ancestral home;
how can I leave it?
:52:16
Why not? You were away
eight years before
:52:20
You left me at my father's
and never wrote
:52:23
Then I did not know how sweet you are
:52:28
Save your compliments
:52:30
This is my home, too
:52:36
But look at it: It's like
living in the forest
:52:41
At night the jackals prowl around
:52:46
There are no neighbours
I can talk to
:52:52
You are not always here
and sometimes I'm so depressed
:53:00
You won't understand these things
:53:03
You live in your work. Sometimes
you're paid, sometimes not
:53:12
I had dreams, too, of all the things
I would do
:53:21
Those who came before are gone
:53:25
am /eft behind,
a penniless beggar
:53:30
Day draws to its close,
night's mantle descends
:53:35
Row me across to the other side