Imagine the drip of it, the small splash, echoin a tin mug,
the voice of a kindly god.
Sometimes, the sudden rushof fortune.
The municipal pipe bursts, silver crashes to the groundand the flow has founda roar of tongues.From the huts,
a congregation: every man woman child for streets aroundbutts in, with pots,brass, copper, aluminium,plastic buckets,frantic hands,and naked childrenscreaming in the liquid sun,
their highlights polished to perfection, flashing light,as the blessing singsover their small bones.
Bolo vytvorených viac ako 30 miliónov storyboardov