Silence dissolves all objects
It is not related to any counterpart which belongs to the mind
Silence has nothing to do with the mind
It cannot be defined It can be felt directly because it is our nearness
Silence is restriction It is feeling without a feeler
Silence needs no intermediary
Sound which comes from silence is music
Within these four walls only a number exists
which does not progress
which slowly will wish more and more for death
But suddenly my conscience awakes
and I see that this tide has no heartbeat
only the pulse of machines
and the military showing their midwives' faces
full of sweetness
How much humanity
exposed to hunger, cold, panic, pain
moral pressures, terror and insanity
What horror the face of fascism creates
They carry out their plans with knife like precision
To them, blood equals medals
slaughter is an act of heroism
How hard it is to sing
when I must sing of horror
Horror which I am living
horror which I am dying
To see myself among so much
and so many moments of infinity
in which silence and screams
are the end of my song