Myldretid.

Bilerne suser med tændte lygter,
halvdelen jager, og resten flygter
som fisk i stimer og sort sol af stære
der udfolder noget, man ikke kan lære.
Strømmende liv i smuk symbiose,
naturen fortryller os uden at ose.

Lyset er grønt nu, og straks går vi over,
her går det ikke, man står og sover.
Biler ser rødt, der dyttes og gasses,
tiden er knap og må ikke forpasses.
Alle har travlt og skynder sig hjem,
maverne knurrer, og klokken er fem.

Rush hour.

The cars whiz with lights on, one half are chasing and the other half are fleeing. Like fish in shoals and swarms of starlings that unfolds something you can’t learn, flowing in beautiful symbiosis. The nature enchants us without pollution.

Our light is green now, we must quickly pass, and it’s appropriate to be awake. Cars looks at red light, honking and gases up, the time is short and should not be missed. Is it the sea foaming waves that occasionally reveals a fin of a dangerous shark, or is it tired people, all in a hurry, with growling stomachs at rush hour?