Now we will count to twelve
And we will all keep still.
For once on the face of the Earth
Let’s not speak in any language,
Let’s stop for one second,
And not move our arms so much.
Fishermen in the cold sea
Would not harm whales
And the man gathering salt
Would look at his hurt hands.
These who prepare green wars,
Wars with gas, wars with fire,
Victory with no survivors,
Would put on clean clothes
And walk about with their brothers
In the shade, doing nothing.
Perhaps the Earth can teach us
As when everything seems dead
And later proves to be alive.
Now I’ll count up to twelve
And you keep quiet and I will go.
PABLO NERUDA
Still : quiet and motionless
Hurt : injured
Later : that comes after
Alive : living
