THEY CLOSE THEIR EYES

Now the world closes its eyes again, the conscience lurks dormant. A few minutes-a man and A Celebrity hand out cheap, dilute bean soup from the warm steam of the blahan pots. Vulnerable poverty would roar away the vengeful anger if it had anything - but perhaps it had long since been sold. Between the workbenches, the vices are silent. It is not worth buying mouse-chewed bread, but only three-day-old, measured bodag.

Invisible, yet increasingly discernible, Moloch preaches his new demagogic words; on crypt-like faces a plethora of troubles is multiplying, and because the system demands cheaper and cheaper labor, even the defenseless, vulnerable little man becomes crumpled.

Teenage mothers give birth to babies in a blinded world where there is no longer, and cannot be, character, will, honor - laden corruption, all the more wasting our members. There are more and more people who are eagerly envious of those whom fate has given them, and a few stooges who are in favor! And how in just a few years the Attila Joseph, Prima Primissima, or the Kossuth prize also became worthless! The grim man-noose, like the screaming rebellion of the crowd-men, is becoming more and more evident!

The watery, musty slush, filth, and so many pumpkin peels fall up to the eye sockets, the leaky autumn shoes knead the already existing filth into a mixed mortar, which the city throws out of itself every day. A rebellious word, if it may sound here, is a fattened hangman breaking all two hundred and five bones of a miserable one who has remained himself!