Hunger is driving mad. The mind is as if in the mist. There is a sinking sensation in the pit of the stomach. It is dark in the eyes because of faint. The long starvation drains of all strength, drives to despair. All feelings are lost during the search for food. The only thoughts are: " Eat, eat, eat." A flying bird comes to the sight. The instinct of a hunter and the accuracy in shooting work. The stone - there is nothing else at the moment - knocks down the bird. It falls down to the ground.
You catch it, you have no opportunity to cook it and you eat it tearing it with your hands and digging your teeth into the raw flash.
The blood is running on your lips, chin , neck, chest, arms; it is covering the clothes.
The heart is breaking looking at this sight:" Hungry!" Some people appear from somewhere and shout:"Such a cruelty!" "Hungry!" a loving heart says .
You hide yourself from the people, all covered with bird's blood. You have satisfied yourself and you don't know that it is Love itself.
перевод:
http://proza.ru/2014/01/03/1656