A joke. A spectacle of events # 40473
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Brandur. A play in incidents by Henrik Ibsen. Translated by Matth. Jochumsson.
First episode.
In the wilderness, up there in the dark. There is a black mist, a fog, and the semi-darkness of night.
Brandur, with a staff in his hand and a bag on his back, heads west of the mountain.
A farmer and his son, a half-grown boy, trail behind.
Farmer: You, traveler, follow me!
Where are you going?
Brandur: Here!
Farmer: You're getting lost!
Now it's getting dark, we see fields
Where do we put the letter? It's hard to find.
Son: There are cracks here!
Farmer: In danger of falling!
Brandur: And there's no more street to be seen here.
Farmer: (calls) No, look, look, man, the blue one,
It's shaking, don't touch it!
First episode.
In the wilderness, up there in the dark. There is a black mist, a fog, and the semi-darkness of night.
Brandur, with a staff in his hand and a bag on his back, heads west of the mountain.
A farmer and his son, a half-grown boy, trail behind.
Farmer: You, traveler, follow me!
Where are you going?
Brandur: Here!
Farmer: You're getting lost!
Now it's getting dark, we see fields
Where do we put the letter? It's hard to find.
Son: There are cracks here!
Farmer: In danger of falling!
Brandur: And there's no more street to be seen here.
Farmer: (calls) No, look, look, man, the blue one,
It's shaking, don't touch it!