Perhaps, perhaps oblivion on earth, like a mantle can develop growth and nourish life (maybe), like dark humus in the forest.

Perhaps, perhaps man,
like a blacksmith,
seeks live coals,
the hammering of iron on iron,
without entering the coal's blind cities,
without closing his eyes,
not sounding the depths,
waters,
minerals,
catastrophes.
Perhaps, but my plate's another,
my food's distinct:
my eyes didn't come to bit oblivion:
my lips open over all time, and all time,
not just part of time has consumed my hands.

That's why I'll tell you these sorrows of the
disaster's in the world to day.
Like:
Syrian war,
Problems in the Ukraine,
Poverty in the far east
Politicians who say one thing and do another.
People starving and unsecured.
But we like to put aside,
I'll oblige you to live and fight for ...
Beat the earth with our human strength
or to fill our hearts with salt water,
but to set forth knowing, to touch rectitude
with decision infinity charged with meaning,
that severity may be a condition of happiness,
that we may thus become invincible.

Perhaps one day...