Dear little squirrel, can you hear me, do you understand what I
say when I talk to you, can you feel me lifting you,
as we cross the yard together in order to bury you in
the ditch where the soil is soft and black, do you hear the
insects, the breath of wind, do you think; what is eternity?
What does eternity mean? Maybe the fleeting shadow
when a plane passes, the sluggish rain. Can you perceive that
I’m thinking about you, about how you no longer exist, that
you no longer exist among all the others; you were unique, like
we all are unique. I for example believe I am a father,
believe I am a son.

Kjære lille ekorn, kan du høre meg, forstår du hva jeg
sier når jeg snakker til deg, kjenner du at jeg løfter
deg, at vi sammen krysser plassen for å begrave deg i
grøften der jorden er myk og svart, hører du insek-
tene, vindpustet, tenker du; hva er evigheten? Hva
betyr den, evigheten? Kanskje den hastige skyggen
når et fly passerer, det langsomme regnet. Merker du
at jeg tenker på deg, tenker at du ikke fins, at du ikke
fins i alle de andre; du var den eneste, slik vi alle er
den eneste. Jeg f. eks. tror jeg far, tror jeg er sønn.