We publish this beautiful poem written by our member Giorgio Valdes from Sestu (CA)

 

The Silence of the Living

The gazes are bowed
and the wounds bleed
on the daisy meadow
and on the boots of the torturers.
Just a few moments more
to hope to die
with the caress of the sun and the wind
entrusting the last breath
to the oleanders in bloom.
But the sinkhole is near,
in it the darkness is dense
like lava of horror.
The vanquished implore mercy
with a bullet straight to the heart.
But there is only one shot in the gun,
it is destined for the first in line.
He will be the surrendered and silent weight
man train dragger
towards the abyss of sharp rocks.
First there are piercing screams
then faint moans
finally the silence
saturated with darkness and death.
Many seasons have passed
from the blind tide of horror
but at the bottom of the sinkholes
souls still dwell
clinging to the poor remains.
They are waiting to be released
from the Truth of History
and to rise from oblivion
to find peace
in the garden of memory.

10 February 2018
George Valdes

Source: February 10 Committee