Spring
Tonight the sky is a flowering almond treeand in the valley the cuckoo is already quivering.Rocco ScotellaroWar on nature And they came out of the houses in the morning at dawnafter greeting the affectionate children, tenderly stroking the dogThey gathered in an army with the song of an ancient melody in their mouths andcamouflage clothesto greet the saintFinally the battle! against an invented enemy who had come in peacealready wounded and branded raped, terrifiedThey killed him by the thousands from the mountains to the cities laughing andsingingthat melody of the stars dedicated to their children by prayingA shouted sacrificea party called war against a guilty resistant deserter onlythat I was born a rebellious slave.Losca elmDeaf WarCybernetic fools, warmongers, flatterers of the dung god of money.Escapees from asylums, hallucinated by white stripes in war for fun. Out oforbit, distracted. From depleted uranium, full of vainglory.Attack at dawn ofone day with the screams of children.Antonio RotondoA shouted sacrificea party called war against a guilty resistant deserter onlythat I was born a rebellious slave.Dumpy elm"I go, mother. If I don't come back,I will be a flower of this mountain, a fragment of earth for a world bigger thanthis.I'm going, mother. If I don't come back,the body will explode where it is tortured and the spirit will scourge,like the hurricane, all doors. I'm going...mother...If I don't come back,my soul will be the word ... for all the poets"Abdulla Goran (Kurdish poet)Alchemist's nursery rhymeWho is so blinded to ignorethat there is absolutely nothing to discoveryou don't need molten lead in the cruet we all know how to make that diabolicalmagic of gold:at the cost of peace and decorum. The formula depends on the final color you wantto give to your metal that gold isn't just yellow!There is the one with the red veins that is said to contain too much copperindeed it is the blood of the starving dead that comes to the nuggets from thepits: that stains the coral ore.Instead, the most regal white gold that seems to come straight from the moon israre because it is the result of luck: no one died to be able to do it.There is the last one which is an all-black gold, it is liquid and different fromthe others, the center of power, the real one: certainly the favorite of the moreshrewd.With him we have come this far, the God of the artificial paradise,poised between happinessand the nightmare of nuclear risk,one step away from true evolution: with the certain promise of extinction.They keep the formula well: 'we need to keep the people in chains; destroy thenatural environment; and not caring about the social good'. Stay at the yoke,working animals: this is the magic to make gold.Valerio Galleratihttp://alternativalibertaria.fdca.it/wpAL/blog/2023/05/03/il-cantiere-di-febbraio-2023-2/_________________________________________A - I N F O S N E W S S E R V I C EBy, For, and About AnarchistsSend news reports to A-infos-en mailing listA-infos-en@ainfos.ca
Geen opmerkingen:
Een reactie posten