![]() ![]() ![]() What music resurrects in the soul of a man about to die is neither hope nor thought, but simply the blind, heart-breaking miracle of life itself. No one else can experience music in quite the same way. People in camps, people in prisons, people who have escaped from prison, people going to their death, know the extraordinary power of music. ![]() It was like a warm summer cloud-burst ignited by the sun, flashing as it crashed down to earth. ![]() There was a burst of something like cheeky, timid bird-song and the air – air that had been torn apart by the barbed wire and the howl of sirens, that stank of oily fumes and garbage – was filled with music. Then a grey-haired man in a colorful cloak called out and they reached for their instruments. Some of them looked round at the approaching column. They were the members of a band, each of them as different from one another as their instruments. In the middle of this square were several dozen people on a wooden bandstand like in a public park. “The travelers emerged into a spacious square. ![]()
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