By Agnes Pollner and Ralf Peters.
5th of August, Orangerie at Malérargues
In the waves of our breath traces of voices are washed ashore.
By exploring the flotsam and jetsam we are being carried along by it.
Sometimes softly and kindly
sometimes like people crammed in their small boats tossed about by the sea
The words of the language the people of my father spoke are disappearing, Nobody left there, everyone been washed away by the flow of changing times.