"The dwarf barefooted, chanting Behind the oxen by the lake, Stepping lightly and lazily among the thorntrees Dusky and dazed with sunlight, half awake;The women breaking stones upon the highway, Walking erect with burdens on their heads, One body growing in another body, Creation touching verminous straw beds.Across scorched hills and trampled crops The soldiers straggle by. History staggers in their wake. The peasants watch them die."