From Anarchy in Italy
From “L'Esplosione”, an anarcho-nihilist paper of subversive insurrectional corresponence
He's someone who has two parallel lives,
but one of them wants the other one's head.
And, just like in certain old fairy tales, there is
a murderous “demon” in him, puffing like a dragon.
But it is a sincere “demon,” that, real or not,
wanders through the night
hidden in our midst.
And if everything is hopeless,
and if everything moves toward destruction,
he is an effervescent “human bomb,”
who might explode at any moment
Sweet and ruthless at the same time, he keeps himself distant
from the love and kindness of those who would like to domestic him.
He is relentless:
he has no fashion, tact or grace.
He doesn't forgive.
Like an outlaw, he follows his own code.
He grants you the opportunity of putting your hands up before he shoots you.
But most are to terrorized to raise them.
They get mowed down.
This is his monstrous side,
which makes him seem to your eyes
ruthless and perverse.
But inside the puffing dragon hides a prince
who suffers from the smallest cruelty or injustice.
Inside his so very instinctive,
so very explosive animal,
lives a tender and sensitive soul
that has quickly learned to wrap itself up
in a cloak of fire
to protect its living flesh.
In railing against the how intolerable this world is,
no one is more
cynical, cruel and venomous than him.
In his iconoclastic fury, serpents froth
from every pore,
and his rebellion against each and all
has something of madness.
But behind the chaos and madness on the surface
the logic and will of the boldest of creators hides.
This “demon” with his wicked thought
is an artist of life,
he exclusively speaks the language of fire
He feels that he must create the space to make himself heard,
and ears that hear, and this is why
he keeps company with “dynamite” and takes it
as his mate.
He knows that he has to create with sacrifice
sometimes of his own being
the awareness of the value and dignity
the the words “freedom” and “human”
He has never recognized the phantoms
created by fear and confusion
that men call “enemy.”
Because no one knows better than he that
“the enemy of man is man.”
There is now in him
a raging awareness:
his own and other people's liberation does not depend
on the consent of the multitude,
but solely on the immediate disintegration
of everything that governs
and administers this old world,
and that is strangling us all.
No, he couldn't surrender
even if he wanted to:
there is no other surrender – for him – but death.
if through your poisonous indifference
you let the “monsters” who now have
to use ever more refined and deadly
tools of destruction
against the weak, the defenseless, the helpless,
when their target is entire populations,
the, dear sirs and madams, it seems to me that he has
all the reason
in the world to explode
in the way most harmonious with him
at the time he determines, without warning.
No, there are no innocents!
The time and place of creation are here and now.
And, every insurgent of the will to live,
moves in a “circle of visible destinies,”
lord of the realm of life without slaves.