We are not as we were before. Many things have changed in us and we have become remnants of a soul. Neither our voice nor our laughter remains as they were. Neither joys make us happy nor sorrows make us cry. Nor does our eagerness remain our eagerness. We have become strangers even to ourselves. Be gentle with us. We are the last cry of a generation that we do not know whether it is being born or dying. We have grown old and mysterious anxiety has become our constant companion and scatter us. Even tears no longer fall alone, but with them fall friends, the absent, and beautiful memories. Our feelings have frozen, and every day something inside us dies because of the many farewells we have had.... Be gentle with us... Be gentle with us