“The dwarf barefooted, chantingBehind the oxen by the lake,Stepping lightly and lazily among the thorntreesDusky and dazed with sunlight, half awake;{{pb}}The women breaking stones upon the highway,Walking erect with burdens on their heads,One body growing in another body,Creation touching verminous straw beds.{{pb}}Across scorched hills and trampled cropsThe soldiers straggle by.History staggers in their wake.The peasants watch them die.”