Farmer, hire me! Farmer, hire me!

From the Life of a Good-for-nothing was a topic I discussed once with a certain Ulrich Stolte, during a long, long walk from Münsingen to Ulm. There, he noticed that to express the chanting of the birds Eichendorff used onomatopoeic phrases with additional sense. And how lovely is it that those insanely vivid birds, those dinosaur-midgets, are chirping again! But what do they tweet about in such a frantic way? Over 100 Million years old, their language may be a bit more complicated than: „look! A worm!“ or „Dude! Alfreda laid another egg.“
„The borders of my language mean the borders of my world“, says point 5.6 in Wittgensteins tractatus logico-philosophicus. I can just understand it as such: every experience related to language limits my world; every experience not related to language – above-language-experience, if you want – means to step out of my world into that, what’s located behind: our world.
And both seem important, as meaningful. Especially, because time slips away, and both these worls are so endless; time slips away, so fast, because you do things; in huge chunks, time fall into the past and lets hours disappear, when you do what you love.