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If you liked it, please support the author with a like and a subscription (or even a repost). * * * * Close your eyelids tighter And don't open your eyes, Listen and answer: What century is it today? In a universe gone mad, Like in a kitchen among troughs, We are stuffy from Dixelendas, Parliaments and bullfights. We still don't want to believe That the heart-pleasing heresy Called "silence" Has been exterminated in the world. We are drawn to remote parks - Far from the squares, Cleansed of filth, Cars and queues. Perhaps this gravel, Bench and jasmine - The last guarantee To somehow improve the world. Is it really true that our gods Are not powerful and free To demand from the era A moment of silence, Short as a shot, Piercing as a scream… And how many forgotten truths Would be revealed at that moment, And how many beautiful ladies Would not be reborn as fools, And how many vain bullets Would not fly out of the barrels, And how many “Napoleons” Would hesitate to shout “Fire!”, And how many scorched Would not fall into the feather grass, And how many impudent pawns Would not be knocked out of the tail, And how many of our singers Would be able to live to be a hundred! Consultations are in vain… Discussions are not needed… All that is needed, brothers, is a moment of silence…