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Transit Zone by Martin Burke     < back : index : next >   

F r o m   a   S u r v i v o r ' s   N o t e b o o k

... to deny Auschwitz is to be ready to rebuild it

It is all so different. I came through
this landscape in winter. We were inept,
disorientated in search of a centre of gravity
and the landscape was truly desolate.
The language of the void. An effect of displacement.
Something impossible. The contrast is too strong
yet like any contrast this one is partly gratifying
and partly alarming.
We knew nothing. We felt we had gone insane.
We gave up all possibility of reason.
I remember it very well, I remember a great deal.
It was deep winter. The snow and the ice.
The idea is most certainly not dead, because
nothing ever dies. Everything returns renewed.
Nothing ever dies. There are signs that it is happening
today and that is significant. Nothing dies, nothing dies.
Even the dead go on and on.


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