XV. Under the floor.

Under the floor.

Everyone fled from the countryside to the city, to have peace I did the opposite,

the militia and the UBOs were raging like mad dogs, they disappeared under surveillance,

Staś was released in the last round, and I hid underground,

the UBOs were now toiling under the block of the one who had been interned until then,

in a new area, among fields gilded with various grains, I was free,

every now and then I decorated the bus stop with graffiti, I wrote a slogan on the road,

I was on friendly terms with the peasants as if I were a small-scale worker myself,

increasing the turnout of the underground, I took up disturbing the secret police,

I painted on behalf of the miners, so that finally, in pride, they wanted to wake up,

and a huge inscription was created on the main route of the miners' journey,

Long live the Solidarity of the miners - that they will finally wake up, I wanted to deceive myself,

but they slept soundly like knights, there were no factors to awaken them,

Staś is a guy from the limelight, such as How he and his kind weren't persecuted?

My fellow miners, who avoided Staszek, haunted them; it somehow ennobled them.

The secret police (UB) watched the internees, but they were interested in those they hadn't broken.

The informers knew the secret police. Those in the system weren't a threat; they didn't have enough money in their accounts.

A year after the strike that backfired, they found me in a rural refuge.

Did they? Some helpful colleague probably informed me where the enemy of socialism was .

Nothing goes unpunished. Let the wrongdoer fear fate.

Jan, the informer, went to India, lost his head there, crossed the threshold of death.

Janek's brother, to make purchases in the miners' shop, worked tirelessly.

Probably the guilt towards the wronged extends through the spirits to the family.

Two shelves the younger Ż. bought burned like a torch in a peasant's barn.

I didn't wish anyone harm, I didn't set the fire. That's how I justify the cause.

They say accidents happen, but how many accidents can there be in a family?

Another Ż. He raised his daughter, as you can see, she died in a group returning from a party.

So much misfortune in one family. In nature, nothing is lost without reason.

If you don't get involved, don't interfere when someone sacrifices themselves for your cause.

I returned home. As I entered the hedge, I saw policemen at the door

. I led the policemen out into the field. They were looking for me, but they didn't recognize my appearance.

They were looking at me, and in a flash I saw the resident of the house at the bus stop.

They ran quickly behind the cottage. After a moment, they drove out of the yard in a police car.

Knowing that my privacy was over, I reluctantly reported.

A week later, on Sunday, the same people came for me. They saw me and felt embarrassed.

They took me to the police station, took my fingerprints, and I gave my explanation.

Now I started getting beaten up. They had me at the crossroads. My hiding was over.

I went to Staś

. "What can I do?" the secret police found me. "You're the head of Solidarity. What can I do?" Staś replied curtly. "They've been looking for you for so long, they'll want to talk to you."

Staś's wife either couldn't, or wanted to, show displeasure with my presence.

So, noticing my poorly concealed reluctance, I stopped popping in there with anything.