Federico within his deep-set eyes that had gathered a mode for expression unwritten and written in a vision

traced to its roots and detected the cries its tongue that was stunned by the sound of death, muted, deprived of its blood, left to shed or sliced by thick increments of siolence the suppression the suppression, its breath becoming noxious with disparateness that a lament is anguish of the soul sends up its final defeat with alarm but it is utterly ambiguous it descends it crescendos it falters in place of depression turns to anger.