As associações do acaso são sempre as mais
sedutoras. Hoje, procurava na crónica de John Cassidy na New Yorker que acabava
de chegar ao meu Ipad algum rumo para entender esta trama do Estado Islâmico e
tentar perceber qual vai ser a posição futura dos Estados Unidos e surgiu-me
este poema de Leonard Cohen, lido na sua voz cavernosa.
Afinal, uma forma diferente de sentir esta trama
de violência gratuita que oculta uma espécie de guerra de civilizações, em que
o Islão mais retrógrado persiste em colocar o ocidente no alvo como inimigo
principal.
A desigualdade é manifesta. A tolerância
ocidental, combinada com práticas reais de segregação cultural, acolhe no seu
seio futuros jihadistas, mesmo que estes, está documentado, representem uma ínfima
parte do recrutamento potencial da Jihad.
I saw some people
There was murder, there was rape
Their villages were burning
They were trying to escape
I
couldn’t meet their glances
I was
staring at my shoes
It was acid, it was tragic
It was almost like the blues
I have to die a little
Between each murderous thought
And when I’m finished thinking
I have to die a lot
There’s torture and there’s killing
There’s all my bad reviews
The war, the children missing
Lord, it’s almost like the blues
I let my heart get frozen
To keep away the rot
My father said I’m chosen
My mother said I’m not
I listened to their story
Of the Gypsies and the Jews
It was good, it wasn’t boring
It was almost like the blues
There is no G-d in heaven
And there is no Hell below
So says the great professor
Of all there is to know
But I’ve had the invitation
That a sinner can’t refuse
And it’s almost like salvation
It’s almost like the blues
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