Now we will count to twelveand we will all keep still.This one time upon the earth,let’s not speak any language,let’s stop for one second,and not move our arms so much.It would be a delicious moment,without hurry, without locomotives,all of us would be togetherin a sudden uneasiness.The fishermen in the cold seawould do no harm to the whalesand the peasant gathering saltwould look at his torn hands.Those who prepare green wars,wars of gas, wars of fire,victories without survivors,would put on clean clothingand would walk alongside their brothersin the shade, without doing a thing.What I want shouldn’t be confusedwith final inactivity:life alone is what matters,I want nothing to do with death.If we weren’t unanimousabout keeping our lives so much in motion,if we could do nothing for once,perhaps a great silence wouldinterrupt this sadness,this never understanding ourselvesand threatening ourselves with death,perhaps the earth is teaching uswhen everything seems to be deadand then everything is alive.Now I will count to twelveand you keep quiet and I’ll go.
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