About looms...
- Look, Darling, look at the clear bulb of the clear lamp!
- On a clear mat, linen woven?
- Yes, honey, ‘t was woven on a wooden loom by a poor girl so pale and fair indeed! Once she went astray. As a genuine though whore, with her fist on her hips and yelling insults and obscenities with a coarse voice.
- But, never mind, you know, light’s enough to see and memories are over.
- Then she drank draught beer but they did smite her.
- What a pity!
- Being rude, she smiled, never, never she did let her tears flow.
- Keep on being proud, wasn’t she?
- Indeed, but she felt as a wild cat.
- Did she killed that woman who slandered her?
- Well, she bumped her face and twisted her breasts, and knocked her eyes and tore her left ear, pulling out her nose and singing a song while she trod her knees!
- Did she wore big shoes?
- Stiletto heels, you know?
- But she looked so pale and fair!
- Who knows what stand inside of the matters if facts?
- Nobody, I declare…
- Yes they did smite her, she shouted “I don’t care” meaning “I don’t cry”!
- Who bought the wooden loom?
- A sailor, I presume…
- All’s well that’s ends well…