A broken fountain in the city ruins
Concrete children dance in a circle
War having slaughtered a community
But there the children gleefully dance
For the citizens the war brought doom
Life is not a promise, but death is certain
Our kindness is thereby required, and a unity
Between acts of violence and vagaries of chance
We are not able to survive, without taking control
Making certain love wins, never acts of circumstance
“The street is no longer measured by meters but by corpses ... Stalingrad is no longer a town. By day it is an enormous cloud of burning, blinding smoke; it is a vast furnace lit by the reflection of the flames. And when night arrives, one of those scorching howling bleeding nights, the dogs plunge into the Volga and swim desperately to gain the other bank. The nights of Stalingrad are a terror for them. Animals flee this hell; the hardest stones cannot bear it for long; only men endure.” Inferno: The World at War, 1939-1945
