prophecy of the fields.

I stab

you who oppress,
with a flower,

sink it deep in your

so on you it will

feed and when you die

restless and dry,
over your carcasses

will grow fields and trees.
With their arms outstretched

they will bury

your memory
into the loneliest vaults

of heaven.
You who oppress!
Listen to the bones

leading up to your thrones,
white, their moan is reaching

for you, reaping

you breath after breath!
I spit suns at you, and they will

pierce you,
you who oppress!
The Eye is watching you

and the day is coming
when in a loud

cry the seething

firmament will

come crashing down

upon your kingdoms and

the clamor of it’s fall

devour your souls.
You who oppress,

the sins you ride

will hang
your neck!
You who

















Photo: Marc RIBOUD (1975)


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