A Smoke In Times Of Rest Is

It Is An Illusion To Think That The Matter Can Be Resolved Through Words.

With A Military American Base In Our Territory, Where There Could Be Any Sort Of Weapons, Where We Have To Endure Every Kind Of Provocations, We Have To Support And Endure The Flights Over Our Territory.

I Have Sworn Before A Picture Of The Old And Mourned Comrade Stalin That I Won’t Rest Until I See These Capitalist Octopuses Annihilated.

I Now Know, By An Almost Fatalistic Conformity With The Facts, That My Destiny Is To Travel.

The Stars Drew Light Across The Night Sky In That Little Mountain Village, And The Silence And The Cold Made The Darkness Vanish Away. It Was - I Don't Know How To Explain It - As If Everything Solid Melted Away Into The Ether, Eliminating All Individualtiy And Absorbing Us, Rigid, Into The Immense Darkness. Not A Single Cloud To Lend Perspective To The Space Blocked Any Portion Of The Starry Sky.