***
The morality kills the immorality kills
only the inferno is a good, fertile ground
over there exists what the eye didn’t see
and the ear didn’t hear and the hand
didn’t touch and what wasn’t born
in the heart of the man ‒ over there
is the fire, the sword, the war that cleanses
him of the rust. To live in him means to verify.
Over there we begin with not loving anyone,
then we love all the beings that populate him
after that we no longer love anyone but a few,
then a single one and then the only one ‒
don’t ye hesitate anymore ‒ behind, a huge
crowd that marches untiringly to a pit
whereinto they will all fall pell-mell, pushed
by a new crowd from behind, which, for her part,
pushes they are disappointed but they seem
to be happy. Over there it’s cold.
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