You may proclaim, good sirs, your fine philosophy But till you feed us, right and wrong can wait! - Bertolt Brecht

Who built Thebes of the 7 gates ?
In the books you will read the names of kings.
Did the kings haul up the lumps of rock ? And Babylon, many times demolished,
Who raised it up so many times ? In what houses of gold glittering Lima did its builders live ?
Where, the evening that the Great Wall of China was finished, did the masons go? Great Rome is full of triumphal arches.
Who erected them? Over whom did the Caesars triumph? Had Byzantium, much praised in song, only palaces for its inhabitants ? Even in fabled Atlantis, the night that the ocean engulfed it,
The drowning still cried out for their slaves. The young Alexander conquered India.
Was he alone? Caesar beat the Gauls.
Did he not even have a cook with him? Philip of Spain wept when his armada went down.
Was he the only one to weep? Frederick the Second won the Seven Years' War.
Who else won it? Every page a victory.
Who cooked the feast for the victors? Every ten years a great man.
Who paid the bill? So many reports. So many questions.

The war which is coming
Is not the first one. There were
Other wars before it.
When the last one came to an end
There were conquerors and conquered.
Among the conquered the common people
Starved. Among the conquerors
The common people starved too.

Here today we huddle tight
As the darkest heathens might
The snow falls chilly on our skin
The snow is forcing its way in.
Hush, snow, come in with us to dwell:
We were thrown out by Heaven as well.