Sublime

On Israel Independence Day in 1995, Israelis heard the first performance of a song that would soon become an Israeli classic. Titled “Winter ’73,” it begins: “We are the children of winter of ’73.”

“He lost no time, but ran with shouts of words, acts, death, life, descent, ascent, all the time shouting for us to return to him.”

But I do resent the whole age of patronage being revived under such absurd patrons; and all poets becoming court poets, under kings that have taken no oath, nor led us into any battle.

A generosa revolução que ontem derrubou uma câmara vilipendiada e corrupta, pediu em altos brados o arrasamento da Casa Verde; mas pode entrar no ânimo do governo eliminar a loucura?