150
PARTISAN R.EVIEW
Who wil l dare to say: I was called and that's the reason Might
protected l1le from bullets ripping up the sand close by me, or
drawing patterns on the wall above my head.
From a casual arrest just for elucidating the case, which wou ld end
wi th a journey in a fi'eight car to a place frolll which the living do
not return'
From obeying the order to registn, when on ly the disobedient
wou ld survive'
Yes, but what about thelll, has not everyone of them prayed to his
God, begging: Save me'
And the sun was rising over camps of torture and even now wi th
their eyes I sec it rising.
I reach eighty, I fly fi'om San Francisco to Frankfurt and R ome,
a passenger who once traveled three days by horse carr ia ge fi'om
Szetejnie to Wilno.
I fly Lufthansa, how nice that stewa rdess is, all of thelll are so
civ ili zed that it would be tactless to relllelllbn who they wne.
On Capri a rejoicing and banqueting hUl1lani ty invi tes me
to
take
part in the festivi ty of incessant renewaL
Naked arms of women, a hand driving a bow across the strings,
among evening gowns, glares and flashes open llIe for a moment
of assent to the fi'ivolity of ou r species.
They do not need a belief in Heaven and Hell, labyrinths of
philosophy, mortification of the flesh by fasting.
And yet they arc afraid of a sign that the unavoidable is close: a
tumor in the breast, blood in the urine, high blood pressure.
Then they know for certain that all of us are ca ll ed, and each of
us medi tates on the extravagance of having a separate fate.
Togethn with my epoch I go away, prepared for a verdict, that
will count me among its phantoms.
If I accomp li shed anything, it was only when I, a pious boy,
chased after the disguises of the lost Reali ty.
