already more than fifty years have passed since the Second World War. The heart has forgotten a lot, especially places, dates, names of people, but despite this I feel those days with my whole body. Every time it rains, it's cold or a strong wind blows, I go back to the ghetto, the concentration camp or in the woods where I spent many days. Apparently the memory is firmly rooted in the body. Sometimes just the smell of rotting hay or the cry of a bird to drag me away and inside of me.
(from "The Story of a Life" - Ed Giuntina, 2001)
A conversation between Liliana Segre and Moni Ovadia
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