Deafening silence
Reverberates slowly,
No more cannon and corn,
Only the dead men song.
This is the silence of those
Who felt under fire,
The long weapon echo,
The bomb and the sorrow.
The tears of the dying,
Lying in their own blood;
The all flapping of hearts
Will die in one hour.
And never again they will listen
The strong sing of clarion.
No matter! Defeat or victory,
Merely survive calamity.
And remain the sighs
Who replace every laughs,
Filled of horror,
Of sadness and of terror.
Undisturbed silence
Reverberates bluntly,
Without shadow and noises
The death has token life.
Why are we waiting for
The one which comes after,
We can win so much things
In the silence before.
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Comments
--
When I feed the poor, they call me a saint.
When I ask why the poor have no food, they call me a communist.
- Dom Helder Camara, Archbishop of Recife, Brazil
many thanks for the
^^
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--
When I feed the poor, they call me a saint.
When I ask why the poor have no food, they call me a communist.
- Dom Helder Camara, Archbishop of Recife, Brazil
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