"My Lord, God of the wretched!
Tell me, You, Lord!
If insanity is... if it is true
So much horror in the heavens?"
(Castro Alves - Slave Ship)
Banality of evil,
A setback, immoral,
The Poet thought, one day...
And fear came to light
From there, both before disaffection
No more poetry.
How to think poetry
(Which the human light shines)
Face to face with such horror?
Torment that plagues us,
Which makes us feel weak,
Perplexed, pure stupor?
How understandable are such injury,
Such spurious activity,
Nasty, vicious, insane? ...
The hardest revelation
Of the darkest face
Of human nature ...
How many lost illusions,
Interrupted childhoods,
Hopes destroyed...
How many lewd measured
Transforming surviving
Into troubled souls...
Unfortunately we inherited
All of us, who are here,
This collection of evil.
As victims of a Faust
On the ashes of Holocaust,
Walks the humankind.
But conscientiously may we
Discard the seeds
Which intolerance has planted,
End every war
And reinvent the Earth,
Give it a future of peace...
Sow seeds of brotherhood,
Reap only happiness
And fight against all pain...
Opening heart and mind,
Simply fighting
In the trenches of love…
Defend freedom
Must not be, in fact,
Mere concern.
Fighting against injustice
Must be a premise,
A real obsession.
The hell of Holocaust,
Executioner, infamy,
Can not be repeated!
And rightfully so
Shall not - must not - be
Never, ever, forgotten!
© Oriza Martins
Trad. Daiane da Silva
