But Silence Is Where Victims Dwell.

But Silence Is Where Victims Dwell.

We Breathed The Air Of Freedom Without Knowing The Language Or Any Person.

When Sleep Leaves The Body Like Smoke And Man, Sated With Secrets, Drives The Overworked Nag Of Quarrel Out Of Its Stall, Then The Fire-breathing Union Begins Anew . . .

World, They Have Taken The Small Children Like Butterflies And Thrown Them, Beating Their Wings, Into The Fire--

Instead Of A Homeland I Hold The Metamorphoses Of The World.