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Bertolt Brecht — Part 1
Page 12
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accepted us is no home, bat a place of exile, We sit roe
hear the Border ss possible, waitirg for the day of our retontiee
ng every little chanze beyond the Border, questioning ¢¥Gtius
rgetting nothing and giving up nothing “and @isece
ned==pardoning nothings The quiet 4x
+ ming
sound doesn't deceive use “ the cries from their camps ti 5. pty,
Bo who escazed over the borcer seen elnost as rumors of evil deeds:
“Everyone of us who walks through crowis in worn out shoes, evidg
the infany waich now polutes our country. But none of ve wilt
a,
here. The last wore hasn't yet bean spokene 9» © %e02
a
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