After eating pork cutlet at Toulon, we are headed for the UN Cemetery. It is a chilly spring afternoon.
The flags are waving. It seems like we are hearing the shouts of the day. The choir for peace...
And they sleep in the sea of silence beside the same-sized rectangular epitaphs, but with all different life stories. Who can sit and hear their happiness and sorrows, lovely confessions untold, sighs, burgeoning hopes, embers burning out...
Water runs wishfully under the dark clouds of April. Small watery flames will rise and fall with darkness like the ebb and flow of the heedless quick.
"We engrave your names in our hearts with love,
We inscribe your names in our lands with appreciation."
We owe you our everyday petty quarrels, even our shy smiles...
It was on a cloudy spring day.
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