TransG

Yin and Yang merge.

They carve notes of abysses,

they colour faces of stone,

 and provoke the anger of so many young people

impatient  to rely on meaninglessness

 

Let us discuss, for we have time,

since we have disturbed death

and renounced the yellowing pictures

of a tradition that remained attached

to the logic of non-A.

 

Who wants to be fluid and why?

Who wants to brand

the awareness of destiny

and images of women?

 

I understand,

but it's freedom you don't want,

you want to build wax statues

forever dripping,

but never dissolved.

 

No, freedom I want.

I want the abuse of burying times gone by

under the weight of empty words,

I want the death of the gods of reason

and the limelight,

but without abolishing the absorbed faces

and the grace of she who gives life.

 

Certainly it is precisely that grace that curses

who listens to himself and finds himself alien,

that makes them raise their voices and makes them rebel

to the axe that cuts dreams in two.

 

All right,

there is little more to say:

I want tradition in its seething

of screams and forebodings of revolution.

What do you want?

Perhaps images shrouded in mist