Bêtise de la guerre - mvt 8 - REQUIEM FOR PEACE

The Stupidity of War

Servant without eyes, childish Penelope,
Cradle
where newborn Chaos rocks,
War, oh war, who busies herself with the clash of troops,
Filled with the furious blasts of trumpets,

Oh drinker of blood, who – fierce, shriveled,
hideous -drags man along in her drunkenness;
(Hidden where fate is disfigured, where God flees
Or where reasoning hovers, darker than the night)

Gigantic folly, armed with wind and lightning,
What use are you, Monster?  What use are you, Smoky One?
What if your destruction reconstructs evil,
What if in your blood lust, you seek the animal in us all

What if you don’t know, within the shadows where
your opportunity grovels,
How to bring down an emperor without creating another?