BIRDS AND MEN
There are birds and birds.
Some were born in nests surrounded by trees,
Listening to the music of virgin cascades,
Drying themselves with the friendly wind
That comes through the leaves,
Being baptized by the rising sun,
While the winged people sang welcome songs!
Others were born in cages, golden prisons or not,
And seem to be happy,
As the gold of the rails,
The quotidian food at the right moment, during all their lives,
And the benevolent but futile admiration of their masters
Could be better than one instant of freedom,
Than the sensation of ducking from clouds,
With the perfumed wind from the forests keeping their flight.
To the former, any kind of slavery means death!
These, however, if set at liberty, become confused
And think the time of golden rails was better,
For they have not heart to be free,
To struggle for their own sustenance,
And orientating the direction of their flight, themselves!
There are men and men…