At the graveyards and burial sites, it happens to be passing by a grave stone with a name and two dates, which show that the dead are only alive in the soil for five or ten or fifteen years of age. You stare at the gravestone for a moment, work out the age of the child, again, with the study of the exact date, if it exists, and be familiar with all of his being, that this is wrong, it is contrary to the laws of nature and of all humankind, a child dies. A name and a few dates are all you have – he is a book that will not be able to open. < / p>
Dmitri Plax , the book, ”I am really happy. Time” is is possible to open it. I have read that the a's, who started to talk to me. I will never forget this book, but never read it, because it hurts too much. ”There has been a terrible thing, and your son Peter is dead.” The two polisernas the words of a late summer evening last year, to be repeated every now and then, in the Plax sorgebok. These are the words that every parent fears the most in this world. And they just stand there, carved on a black background.
What makes a man, what would I have to do, when there is no comfort, is there?
and Time would stop. The police arrived in an old blue Volvo to bring the news
One day, a year ago, was killed, the author and translator Dmitri Plax sextonårige the son of Peter on the beach, and the one who killed him with an axe, was his son's friend. The murder lacks motive. It is just as inconceivable as a dumb stone.
in the Meantime, stop in. The police arrived in an old blue Volvo, in order to provide the information. Her father, Dimitri, and it falls straight down into a life-of – yes, of self-denial. He admits, simply, is not that the child is taken away from him. This is the starting point for this sorgebok – that Plax is not even calling the book of mormon, this is the kind of thing, to the seemingly trivial recollection, that he had written in the months immediately after the death notice came up. Is it literature? Yes, of course, but even more, the pure existence, the renskrapad from all the rhetoric. And for the pure love of a child, as a teenager, which is no longer available.
this is Why they killed my Peter? Why they killed my Peter? The question to be repeated vanmäktigt throughout the book. The father is also out of the in their second language, vitryskan. So, why write this book? The answers are:
I do have a job.
I must put a stop to of the time.
Every second, an hour, a week, a month, for you to remove.
from the me. Will turn you into a memory.
I don't want it.
I know I'm going to fail. It does.
no matter what. I know that you are forever stuck in it.
on the Friday. And my time just runs through. It does.
no matter what.
This is where it is at the back of the dumb he is. Then the rest I write ”they” because it seems too obnoxious to write ”I am” – almost next to the silent stone. And then, you hear a sudden, a lot of joy and laughter! A father joking with his son, and his son, I knew about the back. They have a lot of fun in the little apartment, where the living room had become a music room in which Peter plays classical piano (and they talk a lot about the piano). It's as if they all gone by now, and the moments of everyday life, suddenly, forever, yet still there. His father, Dimitri, put a stop to of the time, recycle it, all of the moment, he will spontaneously come about, and in his fragmentary memories of a beloved son of god.
Sometimes, I read this poignant book, a Polish artist poesiantologi and smiling in front of a black headstone.
This is a dialog with a repliksnabb a teenager, cut out, and the tears to flow out this is the book of the stone.
Peter! If you are not out of the badbyxorna and - "
to make?! It's a smell that I don't know what is!
Dad, why are you so angry? It does not matter.
you don't think about stuff like that! In order for you to take.
granted, someone else is picking things out.
the backpack and put them in the wash. Or of the set
in the back, the one you took out. Or clean up your room.
Calm down, you, Papoon. Check it out, I'll take off everything.
out of the backpack...and...put it in the wash. It will take
for the approximately one-and-a-half seconds. Ok, the five-and-a-half.
I am a wizard! All is well again. And. I might be.
Maybe. It can vacuum in the middle of the rooms. But it is only in the middle.
the rooms in the hotel. Deal?
We'll have to see.
”Maybe,” I said. It is a word with a certain amount of ambi - "
the the at the the meaning of it. Yes?
if You are a babblare, that's what you are.
I'm babblarnas babblare. Yes. Haha! Baboon,
I'll show you something.
Sometimes, I read this poignant book, a Polish artist poesiantologi and smiling in front of a black headstone, but then I turn on a new leaf, and it is imperative to stand there again.
all in All I believed in turned out to be wrong. Everything is.
it shattered. I used to say the same to you as to the sentence.
a life is a life in itself. You will continue to live.
no matter what setbacks you encounter, the
so many people are in your family, who did not live in, such as
lost in the war, in the Holocaust. But that was not for you.
nor is life. What's the point then? In no sense of the word.
it is the wrong one. All of it.
I am grateful that my dad, that he let the stone speak."
that, Peter. Time.
in the Replacement, opaginerad.
to View merVisa off < / span> < / span>
Dmitri Plax is a collaborator in the Swedish newspaper Expressen kultursida. Therefore, the review of his book by Göran Greider, author, poet, writer, and editor-in-chief of Dala-Demokraten. < / span> < / span>
READ MORE: , Dimitri and Peter, Plax, Peter may not be a decimal point in the statistics. READ MORE: "Dmitri Plax: Evil is won, and when my son was murdered"