song in the blood

there are great puddles of blood on the world

where is it all going? all this spilled blood?

is it the earth that drinks it and gets drunk?

funny kind of drunkography then

so wise

so monotonous

no

the earth doesn't get drunk

the earth doesn't turn askew

it pushes its little car regularly

it's four seasons

rain

snow

hail

fair weather

never is it drunk

it's with difficulty it permits itself from time to time

an unhappy little volcano

it turns

the earth

it turns with its trees

its gardens

its houses

it turns with its great pools of blood

and all living things turn with it and bleed

it doesn't give a damn the earth

it turns

and all living things set up a howl

it doesn't give a damn

it turns

it doesn't stop turning

and the blood doesn't stop running

where's it going all this spilled blood?

murder's blood

war's blood

misery's blood

and the blood of men tortured in prisons

and the blood of children calmly tortured by their papa and their mama

and the blood of men whose heads bleed in padded cells

and the roofers blood when the roofer slips and falls from the roof

and the blood that comes and flows in great gushes with the newborn

the mother cries

the baby cries

the blood flows

the earth turns

the earth doesn't stop turning

the blood doesn't stop flowing

where's it going all this spilled blood?

blood of the blackjacked

of the humiliated

of suicides

of firing squad victims

of the condemned

and the blood of those that die just like that

by accident

in the street a living being goes by with all his blood inside

suddenly there he is

dead

and all his blood outside

and other living beings make the blood disappear

they carry the body away

but it's stubborn the blood

and there where the dead one was

much later

all black

a little blood still stretches

coagulated blood

life's rust

body's rust

blood curdled like milk

like milk when it turns

when it turns like the earth

like the earth it turns with its milk

with its cows

with its living

with its dead

the earth that turns with its trees

with it's living beings

its houses

the earth that turns with marriages

burials

shells

regiments

the earth that turns and turns and turns

with its great streams of blood.