Miklos Radnoti


Forced March

By Miklos Radnoti

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 beautifulRead More



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