It seems that another world war is coming,

that once again the little soldiers will move and kill other little soldiers
and I think, with belated naivety (it would be
time to become a man once and for all),
how nice it would be if instead of bullets
they were shot with snow, with mud, with
water, and whoever gets stained should
consider himself dead and withdraw from the battlefield,
and return home
to shower, to eat and drink,
to make love to his wife, to stroke the
head of the cat, if he has one. But no, it seems
that things are serious and that there will be
bombs and tanks and once again the birds will
tremble in the trees, and the dogs will howl at
night. Come on, Russians
and Ukrainians today, Chinese and Japanese tomorrow,
Palestinians showing their insides to the
sky, every day. Come on, since
man threw the first stone at man, that stone, called spear, dagger,
sword, axe, bayonet, rifle, machine gun,
rifle, homeland, has never stopped.