In Angola they feel prisoners political accused of any crime. They say that it is a democratic regime that it is in the middle of the joy of their functions. The democratic potencies close the eyes and they point that it is like this that it is good, that it is like this that it is made the stability in Africa. Here is the income of the terrorism of which Europe is not gotten to loosen. Who supports the corruption and their dictatorships, in the bottom it is also terrorist without the knowledge.

sexta-feira, 4 de julho de 2014

He does hope when my mother and my son think I died...



 

Poem that of Russian soldiers recited in Second World War 

"Wait for me, and I will return, but he waits a lot... 
He waits until you fill yourself with feather while you see the rain yellows. 
He waits until the winds sweep them Snows... 
He waits in the suffocating heat. 
He waits until the others give up, when they forget him Yesterday... 
He waits same that letters don't arrive from a distance for you... 
He does wait when the others are tired to wait... 
He does hope when my mother and my son think I died... 
And when the friends if they sit down to drink in my memory,  
He waits, don't hurry to drink in my memory also... 
He waits, because I will return, challenging each death, and he leaves those that didn't hope say that had luck. 
They will never understand that, in the middle of the death you, and your wait, they saved me. 
Just you and I will know how I survived... 
It was because you waited for me as more nobody made.  
In THE World at War, 11 episode. Russia 1941-1943. 
Image: Monument to Motherland, Russia. randomicidades.blog.br 

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