Forecasting the eastern rage,
Dust from the ground raises like black cloud
Covering the horizon line.
An earthquake pushes dropping dry leaves around me.

A crowd without a name!
Chaos! Voices!,
Those who had never seen each other before,
Eyes, Steps.
Those who do not know each other,
Chaos! Voices! (Victor Hugo in Feuilles d'Automne)

Those are in a desperate union of destiny: the will to survive
And I wanted to survive!

The truth came with the first relieved breath of outcast.