There are just a few of them remaining...
There are just a few of them remaining,
The ones who never submit to fear,
Who work, create, and step up to challenge,
Who follow their hearts, not the brass’ veneer.
When most of the others are more than ready
To rip you off, to sell you out,
To walk over mountains of dead bodies,
‘Oh well, that’s life’, they would say, no doubt.
But « c’est la vie » is a lame prétexte,
And, if you look at it through a visor-
You’ll see our souls become part of the trade,
And morals - invisible as the horizon.
It didn't become, been that way for ages:
The ones refusing to live in fear
The crowds destroy and call outrageous,
Leave to rot in blood while they cry their tear…
They are rear on Earth, very hard to find,
Build unusual art, and are fearless in speech,
And the history of the human kind
Is lit up with their minds unleashed…