The hands of the clock of the Tuileries Gardens are still for forever. .. We think Dora Bruder ... the young unknown Modiano, 1.55 m, oval face, brown-gray eyes , not swallowed up in stinking guts of Dora but burned at Auschwitz. Dora Anne and the whole humanity struck from all destiny. And we in the night with fangs that irrepresentable word Holocaust to illuminate mud these beings, our scary similar. Our shadows commonplace.
And we, with what remains of speech, at the foot of a mountain of shoes? To approach the unspeakable. To confuse the animal in the same skin as our skin. To think the same flesh, the torturer might have called our brother on earth, with the same human form. And we, with the same bag of guts before history that goes back to Cambodia bodies in Bosnia or Rwanda. Before this time rusty. There are
facing me, eyes round, and I find myself suddenly in that glance of fear: fear their ... We are faced Jorge Semprun. Before this faceless, returning from the trip at the end of absolute evil. It is with some chalk to line the boards of the barracks, these car freight trains that ran as slow to gray on the dead face of Europe ? With a few words out to make this time indelible .
And we, with what remains of speech, at the foot of a mountain of shoes? To approach the unspeakable. To confuse the animal in the same skin as our skin. To think the same flesh, the torturer might have called our brother on earth, with the same human form. And we, with the same bag of guts before history that goes back to Cambodia bodies in Bosnia or Rwanda. Before this time rusty. There are
facing me, eyes round, and I find myself suddenly in that glance of fear: fear their ... We are faced Jorge Semprun. Before this faceless, returning from the trip at the end of absolute evil. It is with some chalk to line the boards of the barracks, these car freight trains that ran as slow to gray on the dead face of Europe ? With a few words out to make this time indelible .
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