At sunrise, my father would go out to the potato patch with the others, at sundown they dragged themselves back, they wrapped their hands in rags, like lepers, Mother pushing her bulging belly before her, cooking all sorts of horrible stuff in the summer kitchen outside – she hadn’t yet mastered the art of cooking a meal from nothing (she would!)
Und die von Ihnen erwähnten $#?ParaCrawl Corpus ParaCrawl Corpus