he world is narrow br And a silence clings around the trees. br What the future shall be like br No one knows………… br br Where shall I lay my hands with which I would like to write poetry? br How that child shall recognize her mother in pitch darkness? br br We shall stand sober and decorated in a celebration of br White collared guys br br But who, br Who shall suppress a scream that would blow out br from the deepest core of some one's heart br against the entirely false decorum…… br and shall cross all limits of timid composer.