Quantin crept closer to the knoll. A pungent smell passed through his nostrils up into his brain. Attracted by the poppies' scarlet smears, he was about to take another step when he felt a hand on his elbow. A man in a poppy-red jacket, his pupils dilated, smiled warningly.
"No strangers allowed. Go away."
"I don't understand..."
"Understanding is strictly forbidden. Even dreams have the right to dream. Isn't that so? Now go away.

Auteur: Sigizmund Krzhizhanovsky