lunes, 10 de agosto de 2009

dialecto libertario

quiero que nadie nos imponga nada
y con las estaciones que no pasan
trazar el recorrido que no fue
ni será.

quiero borrar todos los límites
y soplar los vientos que no me arrastran
ni me arrastrarán.

quiero que nadie marque dirección alguna,
que nadie nos dirija la tristeza
y que nadie diseñe nuestras alegrías

porque si no existen los límites
puedo no imponer ni respeto
y contemplar cómo se callan
para siempre
cada una de las grandes verdades
que hacen que este mundo sea mundo.

(de dialecto pequeño burgués, pablo marchetti)

1 comentario:

  1. Que bueno.

    Yo encontre esto en un blog, por ahi. Capaz gusta a alguien:

    Dear brothers and sisters
    dear enemies and friends

    Why are we all so alone here
    All we need is a little more hope, a little more joy
    All we need is a little more light, a little less weight, a little more freedom.
    If we were an army, and if we believed that we were an army
    And we believed that everyone was scared like little lost children in their grown up clothes and poses
    So we ended up alone here floating through long wasted days, or great tribulations.
    While everything felt wrong
    Good words, strong words, words that could've moved mountains
    Words that no one ever said
    We were all waiting to hear those words and no one ever said them
    And the tactics never hatched
    And the plans were never mapped
    And we all learned not to believe
    And strange lonesome monsters loafed through the hills wondering why
    And it is best to never ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever wonder why
    So tangle - oh tangle us up in bright red ribbons!
    Let's have a parade
    It's been so long since we had a parade, so let's have a parade!
    Let's invite all our friends
    And all our friends' friends!
    Let's promenade down the boulevards with terrific pride and light in our eyes
    Twelve feet tall and staggering
    Sick with joy with the angels there and light in our eyes
    Brothers and sisters, hope still waits in the wings like a bitter spinster
    Impatient, lonely and shivering, waiting to build her glorious fires
    It's because of our plans man; our beautiful ridiculous plans
    Let's launch them like careening jetplanes
    Let's crash all our planes in the river
    Let's build strange and radiant machines at this jericho waiting to fall.