STRANGE TIMES

The three messengers arrived. They went up the stairs.

The heralds left by the back door. A dog

passed by, hugging the wall. The scent of lilacs

entered the room of the slain man. The soldiers, outside,

were taking off their swords and helmets and placing them

on the stones heated by the sun.

Has the murderer perhaps

passed the river? Has he crossed it? And was it he

perhaps? Why have human doubles recently multiplied?

Is it because of habit, the similiar injunctions, the epidemic-

when one looked at others, he had the impression

he was looking into many mirrors. This alleviated matters

to a degree-a general guilt or forgiveness,

and at times a general indifference.

But now

no one wanted to take upon himself such responsibility,

and one by one they ceased to resemble each other.Then,across the

street,

before the gate, between the two tall columns,

the murderer stood erect, holding with reverence

the largest wreath of all made of white and red lilies.