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26 March 2020 - 23:27
Ilustrazioa: Maitane Gartziandia

MILITANCY

Movement "March 26"

my friends

Just two years ago we got together

do something

although not very much

in favour of the domestic country

the patient was so annoyed

 

at first we felt a warm fault

a kind of wet fever announcing a cold

because, of course, everyone was claiming their theory of grief.

Community misunderstanding in some way

 

few people by nature had torn their anger or their nostalgia for the sheath of the sword.

And the future kept the catastrophes behind their cloudy biomass.

The wages were low, but the forecasts were huge.

However, stockpiles and disturbances were already so stupid at the time that they did not have a guarantee.

approval of notices

 

crisis and the worst, as always happens

absences of occupants

That is, by indifference to indifference.

full of consciousness and barracks

and, consequently, many did not have to kill hunger.

And they just tortured hunger.

 

How happy we started two years ago!

to know how little we were

and unanimously assuming the disorder of the world and life

And he swore by the Bible or rather by the provisional rules of procedure.

We would never try to sort life and the world completely.

We'd only try to slow chaos down.

And that man deserves his punishments, but also his rewards.

and, above all, not to receive any reward or punishment beyond their creditor status

 

our brothers and sisters suddenly began to die.

And in the first access to anguish, we realized that we were unwilling to life without any choice but that.

to be robbed

death was no longer a child burned with napalmez and coca colaz in a demilitarized zone

a Vietnamese

from death, it was a winter here a bomb a pain here a shooting

A sadness barely noticeable by the back between the smoke of two hundred cigarettes.

 

one hundred thousand knots in your throat.

one afternoon we took our friends and lovers

The roof of the norther the diver

Santo Cemetery of No Forgotten

And then all the variants of the party and the party were over.

We had to think millimeter to millimeter on millimeter on the vast territory of the task.

 

It is clear that a people does not begin to be a people until each singular needs its plural.

until it feels like it

And precisely the need for plural led us to come together, to come together and to each other's faces and faces.

mutual fears and boldness

 

the result was not very abundant

but enough

It's not true that energy is plugged into sticks.

value is collected in small tablespoons

and yet, it suffices

and yet it is sufficient, but not excessively

 

as the old tordo was saying

after you beat your child

this method is perfect

but only for survivors

 

on the contrary, we learned that militancy

This word so often devoid of force by legends and speeches.

the marital status was as normal as normal

and collective as tyrants temblad

We realized that militancies are the alphabet of traditions.

but I had nothing but a love for the traditional

 

not possible

It's not time to celebrate victory yet

much less in the center of the plaza to drop pigeons

or to sound expectations and bells

not even to whistle on the melancholic tangles

by itself, there is a long way to live and die

to learn and unlearn a lot

 

History, as always, is full of virtuous feelings.

But instead, in the miserable suburbs of history.

filled with resignation stercolers

fighting with ideological scepts to slander

envy of the alien creature

with the plausible lies being told to cover up the truth

 

just two years ago we met

do something

although not very much

in favour of the domestic country

was so sick

fastidious

 

and if we've learned something in the end

we understand that hatred is not worth much

But much less worth forgiveness.

 

so that they know

honest

mediocre

and the bad guys

that from now on we go together, growing up, searching and even singing

it doesn't mean at all

forgive

 

elephant

a memory

There's militancy.

 

 

April 1973

MARIO BENEDETTI

(Translation: Aiora Jaka Irizar

 

** This poem is part of the 251 issue of Larrun, Recent Militancy Models in Unknown Scenarios.

 

 


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