Familien så på med ærefrykt og forventning. For her var det noe nytt i utvikling. Som de tok feil! Noe gammelt, gammetl var igjen i emning, men ingen vitenskapsmann. Over vuggen min stod halvmånen. I mitt blod sang sollandets sikader, kalte Sydens dunkleste netter, brant et hetere lys og skvatt skinnende gullfisk i strømmen. Nåja, i det fløt vandrerens vemod og jegerens grumhet. Den gang i min femte sommer sprang jegeren ut. Landstrykeren kom langt seinere.

-John Giæver

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