Rising from the past, my shadow Is running in silence to meet me.
There is a sacred, secret line in loving which attraction and even passion cannot cross.
No foreign sky protected me, no stranger's wing shielded my face. I stand as witness to the common lot survivor of that time, that place.
That was when the ones who smiled Were the dead, glad to be at rest.
We are all carousers and loose women here; How unhappy we are together!
This Cruel Age has deflected me.