torsdag 3 april 2014
Intelligence will never have much value
in the collective judgment of this public's opinion.
Not even the blood of concentration camps
could draw from a million of our nation's souls
a clear judgment of pure indignation.
Each idea is unreal, every passion unreal,
in a people who lost their unity centuries ago
and use their gentle wisdom
only to survive, and not to gain freedom.
To show my face -my leanness-
to raise a single, childlike voice,
makes sense no longer. Cowardice accustoms us
to seeing others die atrociously,
locked in the strangest indifference.
So I die, and this too causes me pain.