Miklos Radnoti

Forced March

Crazy. He stumbles, flops, gets up, and trudges on again.

He moves his ankles and his knees like one wandering pain,

then sallies forth, as if a wing lifted him where he went,

and when the ditch invited him in, he dare not give consent,and if you were to ask why not? perhaps his answer is

a woman waits, a death more wise,more beautiful