Since very difficult times, I always had the impression that the American-led panterone quell'onestissimo ladies surname Bush had pointed to Iran as a new prey to be razed to the ground. Over the years, things have evolved in exactly that direction, partly because the media are being drugged with the story of the phantom atomic bomb that Iran is building. I'll Malfidano, but when it moves America, there is always something different in what it takes to appear.
Since the various international sanctions against Iran 's sooner or later will no longer suffice, I am afraid that the epilogue of this long story will be a new war scenario.
So, dear Bush, Circus Gaviscon gives you this little song written by Boris Vian in 1920, but still present. The text you read below is the translation from French by Ivano Fossati. (There is also a quick link to the file). Enjoy.
The Deserter
I received the called military
and now I have to go to war Tuesday.
Lord President, I do not want to do,
no longer want to kill people like me.
I will not bother you, but
him I have to say I do not want to obey, so diserterò.
Since I was born have already taken my father
they took my brother and now it's up to me.
pain My mother is already in his grave, and now the
bombs do not care anymore. When I was a prisoner
me from stealing all
soul, my lady and my dignity.
Tomorrow will close the door on the past
the years that I lost and I incamminerò.
I drag in the world among the people,
with one thought in mind and all I'll say:
say no to leave, say no to obey
How about not to shoot, say no to die
My dear President, if there is to shed blood
paid before yours,
you go ahead and tell your police, if they are to look
that can shoot, I do not have that weapon.
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