The Desolation of Roslavl
97
The hungry crush the hungry in order that they may squeeze into a better place in the line and receive their bit of bread sooner.
The women, the children, with wide staring eyes, with deathly pale faces.
Quietly and silently the fierce and cruel struggle goes on.
All around the people swarm like flies.
A man in a uniform has only to appear, or even a gentleman in civil attire, and the fugitives swarm about him.
—Your high nobility! Show us your official mercy!
Where have I heard this melancholy, hopeless tone, these very words of humiliation?
Somewhere I have heard . . .
Something familiar . . .
—What is it you want?
—Give us a certificate
