The plunder of labor is not the most dangerous, The blows of the police are not the most dangerous, The grip of betrayal and greed is not the most dangerous. Being arrested without cause — that is bad, Being trapped in a frightened silence — that is bad, But it is not the most dangerous. In the noise of deceit, Being suppressed even when you are right — that is bad, Reading by the light of a firefly — that is bad, Clenching your fists and merely passing time — that is bad, But it is not the most dangerous. The most dangerous thing is To be filled with a dead silence, To feel no anguish, to endure everything. To leave home for work, And return home from work — The most dangerous thing is The death of our dreams. The most dangerous moment is that Which keeps ticking on your wrist, Yet seems frozen in your perception. The most dangerous eye is the one That sees everything, yet is frozen like ice, Whose gaze forgets to kiss the world with love, That slips over the steam of rising blindness...