"Pawns are the soul of chess" François Philidor.
Listen, pawn: Back Off! Why go along without thinking?
What drives your trot sad pictures what is a sea?
This war is not yours, you the king you have not ever seen.
Tell me, then why are you fighting?, What you are acknowledging your loyalty?
Did you ever notice you, perhaps you can not return?
You go to death with every step you take.
And all why, by whom? "For the kingdom," I say.
What kingdom or eight rooms! That is just a false game!
In ele horse gallops, the bishop is on the diagonal,
towers in a straight line, but may return!
The Queen and has been seen: bombastic and majestic,
and although your little king advancement, protection has to spare.
instead you're going step by step in your walk straight
all the army knows that eventually you will kill.
And yet you continued, looking straight ahead and not thinking
in a march and a war that can not explain.
If you are white against black is your sword sucrase.
And if your armor is Ebony, the snow-white hate.
Who got you into this conflict head biting? That
-white hatred that you have not ever understood.
ever told me to think
the possibility that across the board you will become noble.
But tell me, worth the risk
that dream life you have now, your soul, your identity?
What is this war will last forever
whether or Kasparov or Fischer wanted to end?
man not let you out of your pastoral
home and throw you into the violent, sad and dark ugliness.
Too much has been the time in this conflict are.
not think of your existence, you have not made
think that this battle only you absurd you can stop.
"Me?" Exclaim incredulously. Yes, you right where you are!
Listen very closely and with all your round face:
Refuse to start the game, do not move to anywhere!
And while above you dare to jump a horse
you stay there, lead foot, and the battle will stop.
If you manage your new colleagues to join this plan
or the monarchy or the clergy
find any way to resist that your firm immobility.
You've won, laborer: Cheerful greeting of peace!
(Thanking my neurotic tovarych Benedict Spinoza for his valuable clarification made possible a verse of this composition. And wait for the patience hump Twitter).
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