We said, at last he understood
the human being has “come to himself”
has seen war is utter lunacy.
The enemies of centuries past,
French, English, Germans,
saw it was better for everyone
to work together
rather than slaughtering one another...
And as we were saying
“Praise the Lord”
there came the curse again
turning back, cruel and merciless:
Kosovo, Afghanistan,
Palestine, Israel,
Iraq, Sudan,
the whole globe an open wound
streaming tears, blood and grief.
Is there a ship, a street on which
to escape this nightmare?
Trust not to the measure of reason,
forget it,
it is obviously ludicrous
(the interests powerful,
negotiation not a choice!).
But with Your Love as our guiding rule
what was impossible becomes possible.
Neither with words nor saintly intentions,
but taking small steps
the ordinary ones, quite invisible.
But we stubbornly refuse
(or has our faith become so anemic
so corrupted?)
to take a chance
and who cares if they call us
unhinged, feeble-minded, wool-gatherers
incurable romantics
and starry-eyed!
We must do our little, our tiny bit,
that passes through our hands
and our minds.
3 Aug. 2004
the human being has “come to himself”
has seen war is utter lunacy.
The enemies of centuries past,
French, English, Germans,
saw it was better for everyone
to work together
rather than slaughtering one another...
And as we were saying
“Praise the Lord”
there came the curse again
turning back, cruel and merciless:
Kosovo, Afghanistan,
Palestine, Israel,
Iraq, Sudan,
the whole globe an open wound
streaming tears, blood and grief.
Is there a ship, a street on which
to escape this nightmare?
Trust not to the measure of reason,
forget it,
it is obviously ludicrous
(the interests powerful,
negotiation not a choice!).
But with Your Love as our guiding rule
what was impossible becomes possible.
Neither with words nor saintly intentions,
but taking small steps
the ordinary ones, quite invisible.
But we stubbornly refuse
(or has our faith become so anemic
so corrupted?)
to take a chance
and who cares if they call us
unhinged, feeble-minded, wool-gatherers
incurable romantics
and starry-eyed!
We must do our little, our tiny bit,
that passes through our hands
and our minds.
3 Aug. 2004
