From Germany, Sonja sent me a Bertolt Brecht poem. The cartoon on the opposite side goes with the poem in an odd way–both of them being about not being able to DO. I believe the translation of “Na toll” is an ironic “Oh great!”
I sit by the roadside
The driver changes the wheel.
I do not like the place I have come from.
I do not like the place I am going to.
Why with impatience do I
Watch him changing the wheel?