Today is election time and I, my dear Palermo, I dream of you so .. As you were on, just and passion that day .. Free, angry and above all united .. Belong to the people and not politics .. You were a dream .. But, you know, the dreams end up at dawn and there is now a reality to be reckoned with .. A reality much too different from that day .. The funeral of justice, the end of the battle, the defeat of the people .. Those cries and tears seemed signs of revolt, the beginning of a new consciousness, instead they were tears for the death of the last funeral Goddess, that dies hard, but finally falls: hope.
That day was a dream but the reality is sometimes darkest night. Because, you know, "The Sleep of Reason Produces Monsters" (F. Goya, 1797, etching, 21.6 × 15.2 cm).
That day was a dream but the reality is sometimes darkest night. Because, you know, "The Sleep of Reason Produces Monsters" (F. Goya, 1797, etching, 21.6 × 15.2 cm).
The light turns off when we sleep, but when it is our Company ..
0 comments:
Post a Comment