Radnóti Miklós
SEVENTH ECLOGUE
Do you see, it's nearing night and the barbed wire-hemmed wild oak
fence, the barracks, hovering, are soaked up by the evening.
The slow gaze releases the confines of our imprisonment
and just the mind, just the mind is conscious of the tautness of the wires.
Do you see, dear; here, even imagination can only be
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