To a lovely maiden I don't have the pleasure to know, Miss Anna Czerwinska, the noblest of her sex. The master walked in a garden with a child. A crow stood on a tree, exposing some topics in nuclear physics and analyical estetics to a wild pig below. The child asked the master: “Master, what kind of bird is that I see on the tree?”. “Looks like a crow.”, the master said. “But crows can’t talk.”, said the child. “Are you sure about that?” “Yes” “You assume the crow on the tree is saying something, don’t you?” “Yes” “So you already know about Nuclear Physics and Analytical Estetics, I guess.” “Yes” “But you’re just a 5 years old child, and you barely read.” “I have learned them during my walks in the garden. Someone I couldn’t see has taught them to me”. “So what’s the matter with that crow? He could have learned them from that very person… in fact, the crow himself could be your invisible teacher…” “Never thought about that. I’ll go and ask the crow.” “Good. What you really should be surprised at, is that wild pig beneath the tree… who the fuck brought that wild pig in this damned garden?!?”.