imagine a furtive love affair in Berlin prior to 1938. Two Jews, boy and girl, perched on the roof of a building full of crossings of David made with paint on the front ... They are exhausted from insult and both terror and a humanity that was at the height circumstances to anticipate and prevent the consequences of that evil mental illness that we all know, with that ridiculous mustache and his sly smile, surrounded by lackeys who clap and they did come to power in elections in 1932. My point: the kids watch from atop a sunken city, oblivious to Hindenburg and the interwar period. The desire, love, survival, physical smell of fear and love are plagued by two, until they are to run away and lose if the land behind the German. It comes to my head because I have in my mind the eternal figure of a Jewish American I met around 1999 or so, that figure rosy seized me a few days. And I remember it coming elections and half of those who are so timid are useless as Chamberlain and Daladier, because there is a figure sitting in a wheelchair because of polio, like Roosevelt, invasive of hope the hearts of those who are still young, nor is there the figure attached to a strong and pure, like Churchill, who promise us "blood, sweat and tears" and then give us the future of Liberty. But do I find the bright eyes of my American Jewish friends that allow me to fall in love for a moment of a dream. Everything is still to be done, halfway between the disappointment and the desire for the future.
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