From Pasan — a threnody for Lanka
...that terrible time, years Compelling a revised image of ourselves, years When all discourse, all thought Yielded to an orchestration of silences counterpointed By the sounds of despair - The moans, the shots, the lamentations, The variations Of ay-ay-yo-o...! ...Pitiless. A word for our time, pitiless The perpetrations, drained, wrung dry the watchers Waiting in numb, ever-fulfilled Expectation... ...lacrymosa Dies illa (ay-ay-yo-o, lacrymosa and dies illa should be chanted - the two latter as in Mozart's Requiem)