Men God Forgot - pg. 15

High up in the sky, the sun is wedding the earth in mad embraces. The air is heavy with complaint, like the stifled cries of a virgin you are ravishing. A hot substance penetrates, flows through life, burning its creatures, waking monsters in the bodies of defenceless children, looting everything in its infernal rage and bringing thirst, thirst to everything : lips, the soul, the eyes, the flesh. Ah, who will deliver men from this hell? clouds of blinding dust, dust that one breathes, that one swallows always and everywhere; sweat that drowns you in its tepid water, trickles down your skin and makes your lightest clothes unbearable, sticky, to the point of making you long for death. Excrement must be drying somewhere at the foot of a wall. Not to mention the flies, the horrible nation of flies, settling as conquerors on wounds, seeking nourishment in the corners of hollowed and bleeding eye-sockets, near the noses of children where the gleaming snot draws their frightful swarm; poisoning the crude nourishment destined for the poor, the poor who worry no longer, stir no longer, because they are disgusted with the world and with everything.