The Dove Of War

Whispers of change, whispers of freedom…
Through the shouts of ignorance,
And the rumble of selfishness,
They are heard.

And so it comes on the winds
And begins, as it lowers it’s wings,
To plant the seed of destruction.
It is The Dove Of War
And thus it sings:

“Live by day and die by night.
To be born each day,
And to forget each night.
To live without knowing you’ll die
To meet death without ever knowing life.

Hardship, suffering and tragedy,
Like the next morning they will arrive.
Until you learn to live not just for one day,
And die not only for one night.”

Now as the fruits of war ripe
in the heat of the burning houses,
In the sound of gun shots,
Echoing the empty streets,
Telling stories of mass executions.
And as the piles grow in height,
Of pink cadavers, of the children gassed tonight,

It takes off.. For another flight.
The Dove of living by day
And dying by night.
And as the ashes cool - it leaves behind,

Faint whisper of ignorance, heard on the site
Through shouts of freedom,
And the rumble of change,
As the people sing and rise and turn another page.

“Here we are, the dead of all times,
dying once again, but now to live!”
(The Zapatistas – 1994)


Writen in Bremen on the Volksbund Camp