Le journal du bled

29/08/2024

oser dire
j perdu confiance en tout , une fois je me suis retourne et jai surpris mon ombre en train de me poignarder

29/08/2024

29/08/2024

Nobody wants to read anything at all

Who cares about books?
Abdellatif Berrada
Books are nothing but talk and a waste of time
They are all made like this out of thin air
I have always tried to argue that the writer is nothing but a wizard
He opens his mouth and vomits everything he has that he has not digested
A poet comes and speaks without asking permission
He should have checked with the censorship before he started
As for the poor readers, they are all burdened with resentment
It becomes clear that imagination has become floundering in the mud
They cook rhymes from love and the singing of the nightingales of these madmen
He goes on twisted and mute, unable to scream or speak
And we boast again about renewing speech
The words mix and the scream stands in the throat
It settles like a monument of blame in the throat

19/06/2024

The day my muse spoke to me about my country?
Abdellatif Berrada

It's dusk when I find myself meditating alone
She will come and caress my cheeks with her refined nails
The night then enters my universe with mystery
I feel the stars so close wrapping around the ground sticking to my steps
I see blue trees, deserted streets, a land of sand stretching endlessly before my eyes
Then I remember; I had a homeland then I lost it, I had a country and I left it and when I returned it was no longer the same
Alas! I was no longer anything but a stranger in a land that had become foreign to me
O night, we have ended up in a world that piles up, deconstructs or dies
In the city, gardens are decimated
On books the seal of censorship is affixed
Which country did you come to? This is how my muse called out to me this night
Here, you will push a door that will creak and soon close on itself
But today you are stronger, so say your words, say them to me without fear please
Speak tell the truth, fear nothing, you are protected and you know it by your angels
Oh ! Here is Gabriel the Magnificent who watches over you
Speak because I fear your silence more than your words
This evening the sky became vertical and my head bent over my writings
Far from the noise of the world, I embrace the night
In one go I must fill this sheaf of white sheets
To catch the light I will pick a few stars that seem so ripe to me
And I tell myself it’s here that I can finally meditate in freedom
With a nimble and agile step I cross the confines of the ages
It is in vain that I will try to rest
In my room drowned in a black space the anxiety rises the day before
An idea torments me then someone enters, a silhouette slips embroiders a lying dawn around me
This muttering risks reviving fear in me
And from my window shaded by a strange dream, enter my muse and it is from there that my verses fly
What exile has come to inhabit my homeland, this one has broken down the door of my thought
The imagination opens like a wound between the thighs of a virgin land
A war passes and my ink incrustations its pen on the tables of destiny
All this is accomplished in the blink of an eye. Is all this in vain?
However, there remains a way out that offers itself to us like a sigh on the edge of the abyss
Then suddenly in my unfinished poem, a line arises, asking: What if one day we will know what the Arabs want?
What state will they be in tomorrow; if they do not free themselves from their aberrations?
who pushes them to go a little further each day with a determined step towards the abyss that awaits them?
Since my childhood, haven’t I tried to read the history of peoples?
I also try to understand what is happening in these distant lands
To see what is happening among these people, sometimes submissive, sometimes angry
The more I understand, the more I risk losing my mind
So when in the evening the sun tilts
That the room seems to me without shutters; I only have poetry as my companion
The wind enters my room and the muse reveals to me a little of its mysteries and its charms
the shape seems to stand out from a dark mirror
his strange face and his body sticks against the side of the wall
The moon was soft in her hands and I welcomed her with her radiant sun
and she began, without warning me, to tell me the history of my great homeland
Her chest presents itself to my gaze like a pearl necklace where two apples are strung
She also offers me the pen so that I can transcribe in silence the cry of my doubts and my anger
This poem is the crown of my collection, which was dictated to me, when it came to me surreptitiously in the evening
When I saw his face the doubt dissolved, everything became blurry
I saw, I saw it....my kingdom a true paradise
I went up with her, relaxing in a corner the angels were having their tea
The angels surprised by my presence looked at me in silence
Among them, faces recognize me and question me
Say ! poet, have you heard this silence, is it our word?
How should I respond since I barely understood what the wind was revealing to me?
Amazed I stand in the void then I asked them to grant my wishes
wash me without knowing the deep nights of my doubts and my suspicions
I also said: teach me to get drunk wave after wave of the stormy sea of ​​my despair
To wander like a lost star in the warmth of the horizon
Where are we going like this, O Prophets? People are asleep
The angel buried his face under an opaque veil and revealed to me what they had kept in secret for a long time.
The revelation was gloomy and I saw the universe cry its regrets
Then my muse smothered me in her arms and gave me the murmurs of her jerky words of which I made the diadem of my poems

14/06/2024

What do the Arabs want?
Fragment 1
Abdellatif Berrada
I have traveled so many paths and visited so many countries
To unravel some knots of the mystery that haunted me; I questioned myself
Didn't I wander to escape the haunting and the curse
With my step I slipped like a ripe apple on the paths of destiny
I wandered for a long time to return to where I left
Hesitating between yes and no, I chose exile

I have known peoples and thus learned not to discriminate between races and creeds.
But it is in vain that I try to understand the people of the region
I wandered everywhere but saw few men ready to take up the challenge
For years I've been observing the scene, I've been trying and I only partially understand what they're doing.
What's happening to them is so strange
I've seen all kinds of wars, but they were mostly just ephemeral maneuvers
There were armies...and men...wars and kingdoms
In fact, there is everything; but deep down there is nothing
Oh my dear homeland, they made your story into a soap opera full of horror and atrocities
We follow the episodes and each time they make us see the drama from a different angle
Would we one day see the raw truth of this episode of this story that never ends?
What if for once they allowed us to see what's going on behind the scenes?
Among these leaders there are nothing more than puppets
We ask them in advance what to do and they do it
The one who pulls the strings pretends to be a benefactor
Me, after years, I try in vain to understand what is happening behind the scenes
I saw people once lions alas! Tamed by fear and the tyranny of power
They have been condemned to a cycle of endless wars and are plunged into it without ever being able to escape.
And to lull us, our historians chew and repeat the same old story
It is to seduce our naivety that they retouch it with eloquence
Those who claim to be scholars have learned everything, yet without assimilating anything

05/06/2024

Dreams of a forgotten city girl
Abdul Latif Barrada

Oh, our ears are tired of the barrage of bullets
Deafening shots
Bullets fired into the air
Bullets miss or hit whoever they want to the core
The price of each bullet pays the expenses of a day or a breath for a hungry stomach
Our eyes are tired of the disasters that haunt us
Everywhere and at all times, calamities follow our footsteps
Please help us
Enough is enough
Our hearts need another side of joyful life
This is what the grieving girl said
With innocent words that brought tears to my eyes
Then she stood far away there and began wiping away the tears there in a corner of the gloomy neighborhood
There, the body of her parents was buried under the rubble
There is where the pink dreams are buried
Her innocent eyes still look forward towards the blue horizon
Her innocent eyes went out from the intensity of crying and no longer shine
Sometimes you look at the ruins and the effects of what remains of a past hidden behind sorrows
Sometimes she turns to me, perhaps I will find an answer to the dilemma
I have never seen anything more true than sad tears telling a story without words
The girl sitting there was in a place devoid of signs of age
Thus, once upon a time, the city turned into dust and rubble
Everything turned into nothingness
The girl looks into the distance and knows that the beautiful life is buried in the rubble
They were six children, says the sad girl
Six of them did not remain alive except her
This is how she narrates an ugly life with her pain
She sheds tears while dreaming of peace
There in the far corner, dreaming of happiness and harmony far from the remains of debris
Hope that there will be a day when healing will come after all the misery
Loved ones have died, and some death is a mercy
Some wounds bring healing that refuses to be lost
I say maybe one day healing and peace will come together in an embrace
They may come together in harmony and harmony
One day, the forgotten city girl had her lost dream come true
A girl who got lost on the road asked me about the address
How can I guide her when the whole city is rubble?
You ask about the house, and the house contains ruins of dust and some stones
You ask me, so I ask myself and shed tears because I know nothing about what the lost girl is asking in the paths of the forgotten city
But tears were flowing from her eyes abundantly, unlike my own
Its tears are completely transparent, like crystal glass, and do not carry dust, dirt, or debris
As for my tears, despite all the pain, they were bright like the noon sun, expressing compassion and tenderness
You ask me and I hold my breath
The answer may come or not
Perhaps rain will come from where it comes as healing
Or perhaps one day relief will come and all misery will be lifted from us
May joy come suddenly in Gaza after all the trouble
It removes the trace of grievance from us and sadness from sad eyes
Oh Lord, is there anyone but You who can heal our sick hearts?
Oh, my Lord, perhaps there is someone who will guide our lost steps, a bit of hope that instills reassurance in difficult days.
Perhaps one day my lost steps might pull me to a joyful place
To a city where childhood melodies can be enjoyed
Oh, our ears are tired of the barrage of bullets
Deafening shots
Bullets echo like thunder in the air
Bullets that hit or do not hit create fear or something that takes away peace, causing fear to dissolve within us to the point of boredom
We have been satisfied with what we have suffered, and our hearts have drunk cups that taste bitter and stagnant
The effects of wars remain as they are and will not disappear
Pain is like deep holes lingering inside the darkness of a sterile wound that will never heal
Who among us has not witnessed the panic of the people as it moved from place to place
Who among us has not heard the earth roaring and throats screaming from intense pain?
Dak, who does not shed tears abundantly, has a heart of stone
Our eyes are tired of seeing hearts torn apart by the intensity of panic
See how violent bombs shook a land that was at peace
They are like earthquakes that cause panic in people
These are terrible disasters that died in the city
Please don't worry
Maybe one day rain will come from where we don't know
Maybe someone will guide our lost steps
Merciful hands take us to a joyful place
To a city where childhood melodies can be enjoyed

31/05/2024

voila c tout j tout raconte

23/05/2024

The call of freedom to peoples yearning for glory
Abdul Latif Barrada
O you who live in the heart of an oppressed tribe that has sunk to the bottom
Arise, poet, and you may resist the bats of darkness
I wish you would leave isolation forever and shake off the dust of fear forever
Let's go, embrace the rebellious letters again and build the edifice of the poem that enlightens minds
Speak and let your written illusions be shaken in a unique way. Hearts have become hard like stone, rusty like cheap metal that wears out and disappears.
Here they are, these religious people who have filled us with sermons about the principles of humanity, watching the massacres with eyes that barely blink.
They have no emotions and little solidarity. All seek higher interests and do not care about fate
O poet, publish the hymns of your language before censorship abolishes its authentic accent
These hypocrites have no language other than backstabbing and continued hypocrisy
Their language is forgotten and their conscience is buried in the depths of darkness, not caring about fate
Today is theirs and tomorrow is based on the unknown, so when the question comes up
Please do not return to your isolation, poet, except to complete the poem
Here is the moon returning after the end of the glorious sunset, comforting you in the sound of the night
In your terrible silence, meditate and come up with whatever ideas you have that you can turn into beautiful songs
In your isolation and absolute silence, light your candle and scatter the leaves
Hold the pen and write from embers that kindle flames in hearts that have died and become rocks
How happy you were in your solitude, the thoughts that inspired you with wisdom that illuminated the minds of people who were immersed in enjoyment
Leaders who are not of the stature of leadership indulge in enslavement and deny values
After lean hours, there are flowing lines hanging from your fingertips, writing rebellious letters
Write and do not let your fingertips tremble
A line of letters that do not know the compliment, perhaps you will find a reader worthy of saying it
Fossilized minds do not care about those who seek freedom from slavery
O stone, the edifice of civilization, can you speak and speak the truth?
Where are the universities, where are the schools, where are the hospitals
All of them were destroyed under the banner of slogans that became a mockery
What good is it to you, O stoner, now that the Mongols are attacking you with shovels?
What is the use of skyscrapers inhabited by dwarves who do not dare to resist the Mongol armies preparing to overthrow dreams?
How many towers were built of bricks and glass have become a mirage
I wish you, oh lofty skyscrapers, could stand the cape of sphinx to tell to successive generations the woes of the labyrinth of peoples lost among the paths of a false civilization.
Neither construction nor institutions fit the aspirations of generations
Here they are shouting to the mullah things that the leaders do not like
We have our vision and goals. We will review all the rules and correct all mistakes
Arise and speak, you angry one, and break the shackles and knots, and make your poem a beacon for humanity immersed in darkness.
Speak and express the truth, build bridges of love, and reduce the distances between peoples
Civilizations of spit buildings gouge the clouds while man sinks in the mud, regurgitating the crumbs he eats.
Shake off the dust of the effects of compound ignorance
Come on, rise up like a flood and shake off the humiliation and its attachments
Talk to those who are staring at your writing without realizing it
He spoke and erased the distances between nations with an accent and a language that knew no distortion
Let your poems, with their angry hymns, build skyscrapers of ideas and wisdom that breathe life into nations.
And let it be written in ink from a sip of rain so that the deserts become green in the oases of the most beautiful lessons
Say: Did you not dream of writing poems that would hasten a new dawn that would liberate the peoples from the tyranny of ignorance and the oppression of the tyrants? Consider the injustice and the darkness.
I wish this damned history had a soothing conclusion concluded on a note from a symphony
I wish all treasures were decorated with an icon bearing codes of good news
Why did you deny us the seven wonders of the world and make us forgotten peoples?
My hair wandered over the crack, but like the screeching of doves, I was satisfied with some judgment and blame that neither revives nor kills a people accustomed to indifference.
Thus, I woke up from a fleeting dream, and my shadow left vanities, and they appeared and fell asleep

19/05/2024

The child who speaks to the Statue of Liberty
Abdellatif Berrada

O statue of liberty, tell me what happened
Tell me about the 21st century
Why and how did the drama start?
Since October 7 it has been asphyxiation..Take me further away where peace reigns
I am not made to stay here among the rubble
and please...take me to where peace reigns
Make my steps guide me to a peaceful island
Down towards the golden star or a little further away on this galaxy which sparkles among the clouds at distances of light far from the earth
I don't want to stay here
Because I don't have the acting talent
I don't know how to distort my mouth or tell lies.
I would like to go even further than the horizon to forget everything
Take me away without depriving me of the seas, nor of the momentum of life or flight
Give my foot forced support on the ground
Don't take these lips from me that chant these liberating songs!
I still have verses to say
That they take me at dawn on the wing of a light cloud
Guide me O statue of liberty during these dark hours
I would follow you as one follows the lifting of the body.
Here the drunken soldiers have smeared the city well
Salvos thunder day and night!
Rockets and bombs are gifts for orphaned children
Enraged soldiers wreak havoc, make plans to burn poppy fields
There's nothing left
No hospitals, no schools, no homes
Olive trees are uprooted
Mad soldiers chase the shadows of Gaza
Terrorize the brave people who survived the massacre
they remain silent in the face of calls from residents on the move
Not a gesture not a word worth
I have terrible worries for the future of humanity
The soldiers hum their national anthem and are proud of their barbaric acts
The war has ravaged everything and we are promised that everything will be fine..."
Oh ! The terrible noise that war carries among this world
Around us bombs deprive us of hope Oh! The terrible sound of war!
This cartwheeling shell no longer knows where to go?
the machine gun spits, like a person who stutters
Where are we going with all this blood spilled?
the blood of murders... the blood of wars...
the blood of misery...
the blood of men tortured in prisons
Tell me about O Statue of Liberty in the 21st century.
There were bloody struggles, successive wars
No truce, no hope
An armistice, then other even bloodier wars
Tell me, you awakening peoples, about the future of the world
You Americans so proud
You brave Gauls
You germans of genius
You British sea wolves
I listen to you, I hear this voice that speaks to me about tomorrow
I speak to you in this language known to all
A language that has only one word: statue of liberty! Human rights watchdog
The last lamp in the city goes out
and anger will forever know the anguish of doubt
The branches shaken by the tornado break by themselves
and the rotten fruits we picked, roll on the earth torn apart by crazy bombs
they fall from becoming impatient where the blood keeps the trace of those for whom we have mourned so much

15/05/2024

O students of all countries unite against the dictatorship
Abdellatif Berrada

When somewhere or somewhere in this world
No matter where it is
In one country or another now, later or sooner
In space or time quickly or very slowly
When the dictatorship leads the party it will take the place at the forefront for all to its benefit
And everything will quickly be destroyed and by everyone she will be served
You yourself who read me if you don't know the truth, you become a tyrant, you will quickly fall into line
you will put your hand in the hand of those who oppress their neighbors who destroy human feelings
see ! Fear sets in, the walls listen and people don't care about your life
The Police are at their service like a twin sister
The famous justice is slipping away, no one is safe anymore
Everyone suffers and causes suffering
In turn, your very surroundings destroy you
You become pale, you ultimately lose your human dignity
If once you accept and lower your head you yourself become guilty of your fate
I know you know the truth, but you hide everything in a drawer
Guilty as any pseudo-liberal leader who deep down is a tyrant
Do you dare to look at yourself in the mirror?
Your gaze has become treacherous, you breathe and spread hatred
In a tyrannical world everyone has become blind
Those who do not dare to contradict lies and hypocrisy become dictators in their turn
Little leaders without power who barely dare to move
With a smug smile serve the big brother big tyrant because they themselves have become the shadow of fear that makes them shudder

30/04/2024

Songs of Arabia
The music of refugees
Abdellatif Berrada
Faced with barbarism; close your eyes friend! Imagine that the earth will be silent; to give the rhythm a joyful tone
If all the doors and windows opened, would you hear those laughing! This music is a word dedicated to desperate people
So imagine happy people if you want to survive
Children dancing heartily, people laughing and forgetting themselves. Could you listen to this strange rhythm of the flute that makes you dance?
You would laugh in unison, you would laugh until you went crazy but this look would hurt you if you think you are so sad
and there is no more joy on earth!
And in one breath you would shout: Enough! I can not stand it anymore!
If one day the earth was silent
All the gates of hell were finally opening to let people go
Will you hear today all those who cry
What does this dance with its macabre rhythm mean?
Abandoned children who cry heartbreakingly
Young people without a future think about su***de.
Women only have their tears as jewelry
Men who have lost dignity; hung their tears on their cheeks
Say!
What does this music say that makes unhappy people dance?
She tells of the heartbreak
a desire to flee, to hide one's face under a hideous veil
and you too would cry over the suffering of the refugees
music would hurt you, you who think you are so unhappy
You didn't know there was so much suffering on earth!
between two sobs, you would cry: “Enough! I can’t take it anymore!”
If one day the earth was silent
And all the prisons would go away
All hatred would be erased from tattooed hearts
All weapons would finally be silenced
and that you hear everyone who talks about you
Yes, people talking about you; without knowing why
they make the rhythm of music
Listen, listen to them carefully
thousands of people are all talking about you!
Frozen, you will listen to the music and you won't believe it!
And this music won't hurt you anymore
you who think you are alone and abandoned!
You didn't realize that so many people were interested in you
For good or bad, we're talking about you!
You hear their unbearable music and you shout:
“Enough! I can’t take it anymore!”
The earth is no longer silent, your word has weight
Come on...now put things back together
keep the hope of a dream
Joy ; will restore its radiant sun to the earth!
Continue to live with your joys, your sorrows, your solitude.
And if one day you think you are sad, alone or abandoned
and you really can't take it anymore!
Silence this mysterious voice that hums fear...
Listen to this strange music that makes you dance despite yourself!

29/04/2024

Who are you ? the reader asked me
Stanza 1
Abdellatif Berrada
Model my homeland, clod of your earth
Mix me into the harsh universal brotherhood
Surround me with stars and let me be your shining star
Taking refuge in my ancestral roots, under the shade of the palm trees, perched on your mountains, I forge my rebellious verses
where I withdraw from the noise is where I loosen the tongue of your nights!
At the end of each morning, I wake up thirsty for the same burning desire
Ready for my revenge, here I am delivered to you
Divided into chapters I tell myself my story
Every injustice resurrects the thorn of my destiny
Around me only shadows roam
They stole every trace of sleep from me
See ! They take hold of my dream
What is mine remains mine, no one can take it from me
Let them go around in circles in this closed circuit
And what is mine remains mine
My dream is this restless desire to see my people free from all fear
I see him building his greatness, assuming his destiny
I see my country building its Tower of Babel; join these nations to sovereign dignity
Who are you ? the reader asked me
I am earth shaped from clay, animated by divine breath
In me there is darkness and there is light
I am the wind, my mind wanders beyond borders
I explore joy or misery and I speak of the calm or anger of people and nations
my words are like ice, sometimes hot brands
my speeches stagnate or rush forth in torrents and avalanches; torrential flood cascades
I'm coming to tell you tomorrow
I am the fire that burns with impatience
I consume myself little by little to enlighten and guide towards a new world
I rumble, I annihilate I ravage, I destroy everything in my path
I am the flame that turns to ashes the vestiges of the past
I am particle, atom, parcel of the infinite universe
Passenger traveler of the galaxies, instinct, came before nothingness
I felt the pain before the punishment and I loved the happiness before the burns,
I am a miracle, life that renews itself
I am history, a soul before the flesh
I am the reason that takes meaning from existence
I was born before love, solitude, conceived of the wedding of silence before the echo gave way to the inertia of speech
Disappointed before even dreaming of any look at the other end of the darkness
Came without words to combine a blind mode fantasy into poetry
Who are you ? the reader asked me
I am a poet and I predict the apocalypse of commercialism
I prophesy the digital destiny of the new world
born before the war, the time when there was no blood I am peace
written freedom before the ink dips the pen into the heart of the illusion
I am the word planted in a corner without angles and without memory which spares the bit of hope
I am a cry left by oblivion, the giant poem that spreads out before your eyes
I follow the gesture always identical to the light, the same gaze of a migratory bird
In my poem there is the secret harmony between light and the sea, the same between the palm tree and the bird, the milk and the bread.
And with speech, it became this flying carpet allowing me to travel around the world
Passing through Berlin and above Paris I set off spanning the Seine
Out of breath, I stop leaning on the Eifel Tower
Then I resume my hike from Virginia.
Passing through Virginia. Tennessee. Georgia. Alabama I continue my lightning stride
Everywhere I go my poetry is elected by universal suffrage
Everywhere where freedom is venerated my songs of revolt have been chanted
In my poetry I describe these putrid blood swamps
These choked throats, free voices absurdly blocked
Red lands, putrid lands, exiled lands
I claim my dignity and my rights as a citizen
What is mine, remains mine, no one can take it from me
I also pass through the Jura where the snow is doubled with white bars
snow is a white jailer who prevails
When my freedom is violated, I spit my anger
What are these beggars who blocked my exits for me?
Here is the world offered to me
Europe and its flanks, down to the Hispanic foot
from Bordeaux to Nantes I go
from Florida Liverpool and New York and San Francisco, I am read and chosen by the millions of voracious readers of libertarian poetry
Out loud on college campuses
in bistros; we declaim my rebel verses
there is not a part of this world that does not know me
for the tightrope walker Africa and its islands I am the bard
In Guadeloupe split in two of its dorsal stripe
Likewise in Haiti, where humanity shines, we stand in a circle to discuss my verses
But here, alas! They crucified my shadow
I was declared an outsider
And it was without consulting me that my fate was decided
So they judged that my work is not a torchbearer
But now my name has become a master key
my flag flies over the skyscrapers of Manhattan city
The Statue of Liberty bequeathed me her torch
My forehead hits the rainbow
My nose mixes a little with the playful clouds of the sad winter sky
When my face slides into the prow the sparkle of the gem stars!
Who can boast of having acted better than me in braving the trials announcing the liberating springs before their time?

28/04/2024

What they are preparing for us tomorrow!
By Abdellatif Berrada
What are the Palestinians, in their eyes!
Like the Indians; decimated redskin tribes
Like the gypsies who have become nomads by dragging themselves on this long road
They will go from country to country until they brush against borders that have never been demarcated
Like all these vile minorities in the world; they will live in divided ghettos
In Australia they have already been called; aborigines
In Brazil and other countries they will be pushed back beyond the Amazon forests
But what have become of these Palestinians in the eyes of their jailers!
Nothing but subhumans
They must be driven out of Israel's sacred land
Over there ; where they will have no rights, no voice to vote
No roof that shelters them
No one will protect them from bombs or enemy fighter planes.
But say ! Haven't they been here long before this new world was even born?
Before the UN even existed and this strange right of veto, when all races and religions mixed together coexisted there.
Millennials Puff; That hardly matters! The cads will say
We can erase everything and change everything in one go
History as well as geography will be absolved in this vast region
We will cite democracy and then we will simply denigrate the status of citizen to those who hold it.
Finally, let's forget that annoying word, democracy!
After all, aren't we under the dictatorship of profit?
Dogma of growth, which leads us by the nose
In this ephemeral democracy, the end justifies the means
the disappearance of the human species is only a matter of time
What will happen to planet earth?
dig ; emptied it will no longer be of any use
Tomorrow, we will go and colonize these interstellar stars
Nothing serious ; we will know how to manage losses and complete the dirty work
For the objective we will exhaust all the resources at our disposal
The sooner the better, then we'll rub our hands
Question of days; questions of bad turns; everything will be played out to the detriment of human destiny
The race will shorten millennia, and after us the flood, eh!
And then what if the flood comes to turn everything upside down
Say! What is atheistic fundamentalism? this twin brother?
What is Manichaean totalitarianism?
Soldiers wearing the inscription “in the service of the state” on their belt buckles will sow terror everywhere
Well, it's hardly terrorism, but as simple as blissful extremism!
Dictatorship disguised under the beautiful pseudonym, democracy
Our world is thus condemned to an ubiquitous destiny
When without looking alike, fundamentalism; totalitarianisms will coexist; it will be a good job
And this will become more and more the same