When Talking about Men
Not until his last minute did he stop following in the steps of his father, and screamed in panic that his life had been stolen from him. The women swayed their bodies and wept in that thunderous landscape, and one man, whom he loved, was there with them like a cypress falling. Pietá, he was dead, drowned in the blood that filled his lungs, and they looked at him without fearing the corpse. Since then they followed on his prolonging tracks. The tracks of a person, whose career began with his age mates murdered in their cradles, he was a kindergarten primus. It was not his fault. There was no disgrace in his life, because he obeyed the will of his superior father.