The Lime Trees Were In Bloom. But

It Is More Than Their Land That You Take Away From The People, Whose Native Land You Take. It Is Their Past As Well, Their Roots And Their Identity. If You Take Away The Things That They Have Been Used To See And Will Be Expecting To See, You May, In A Way, As Well Take Their Eyes.

What Is Life When You Come To Think Upon It, But A Most Excellent, Accurately Set, Infinitely Complicated Machine For Turning Fat Playful Puppies Into Old Mangy Blind Dogs, And Proud War Horses Into Skinny Nags, And Succulent Young Boys, To Whom The World Holds Great Delights And Terrors, Into Old Weak Men, With Running Eyes, Who Drink Ground Rhino-horn?

People Who Dream When They Sleep At Night Know Of A Special Kind Of Happiness Which The World Of The Day Holds Not, A Placid Ecstasy, And Ease Of Heart, That Are Like Honey On The Tongue.

The Cicada Sing An Endless Song In The Long Grass, Smells Run Along The Earth And Falling Stars Run Over The Sky, Like Tears Over A Cheek. You Are The Privileged Person To Whom Everything Is Taken. The Kings Of Tarshish Shall Bring Gifts.

Where A Pack Of Monkeys Had Traveled Over The Road, The Smell Of Them Lingered For A Long Time In The Air, A Dry And Stale, Mousy Smell.