when evil-doing comes like falling rain
like one who brings an important letter to the counter after
office hours: the counter is already closed.
like one who seeks to warn the city of an impending flood,
but speaks another language. they do not understand
him.
like a beggar who knocks for the fifth time at a door where
he has four times been given something: the fifth
time he is hungry.
like one whose blood flows from a wound and who awaits
the doctor: his blood goes on flowing.
so do we come forward and report that evil had been done us.
the first time it was reported that our friends were being
butchered there was a cry of horror. then a hundred
were butchered. but when a thousand were butchered
and there was no end to the butchery, a blanket of
silence spread.
when evil-doing comes like falling rain, nobody calls out
'stop!'
when crimes begin to pile up they become invisible. when
sufferings become unendurable the cries are no longer
heard. the cries, too, fall like rain in summer.
--
bertolt brecht
