In the Middle Ages, the peasants of the small German village could see the castle of the feudal lord wherever they were.
The castle high on the hill, to dominate. The castle so close, too. At night, illuminated by fire. In
them anywhere, for life, between the market and the fields.
with a bent back and his face was sweating under the midday sun or the cool evening between the incomprehensible smell of urine, life comes a time, through a quick thought.
The castle high on the hill, to dominate. The castle so close, too. At night, illuminated by fire. In
them anywhere, for life, between the market and the fields.
with a bent back and his face was sweating under the midday sun or the cool evening between the incomprehensible smell of urine, life comes a time, through a quick thought.
so it's always a thought of fear.
gaze snaps at the top, reflecting, like a clock that was already old by the time.
Basically we just want to feel safe. It does not matter then if the world does not belong to us.
We are always poor smallholder farmers of the feud.
gaze snaps at the top, reflecting, like a clock that was already old by the time.
Basically we just want to feel safe. It does not matter then if the world does not belong to us.
We are always poor smallholder farmers of the feud.
(Gößweinstein, Fränkischen Schweiz)
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