Only twenty-six poems are enough for the author to provide a comprehensive report on our existence. Bare words, not decorated by metaphors, alongside almost prosaic sentences. Short texts next to longer ones, com – posed of several parts. Skeletons next to flesh. Man and Nature in repeating cycles. The search for everybody else in oneself, a dialogue with them. The poet knows well that the world is revealed in language. We waste its meaning; there are no “them”, “others”, “the others”. And waiting for what will happen hurts. The fourth collection of poems by Pavel Kolmačka (1962) who, in addition to poetry, also writes prose and translates, captures man in a decisive moment facing something that must happen. It does not matter whether we call it the Apocalypse or something else. However, it is no verbose moralising or an attack on subliminal perception. Language as an anchor, conciliatory cross or prayer.