Extracte de “Catgut”
A woman was busy with the insides of a sheep’s belly, drying them out on a thorn bush growing on the side of a hill in Italy. She was untwisting the twisty guts, and turning to the left the parts that were turned to the right. This was so that she could make strings for violins. Because when the wind dances with the dried intestines of a sheep caught in the arms of a thorn bush growing on the side of a hill in Italy, beautiful music is made.
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