Sunday, July 29, 2012

Vous êtes perdus, si vous oubliez que les fruits sont à tous, et que la terre n'est à personne.

I've always struggled with finishing projects. Sometimes I feel as though everything I want to say has already been said by sharper tongues (and minds) than mine. How does one build on a history as rich with follies and triumphs as ours? Humanity produces vast oceans of content; we drown in them. Media slays her children. This poetry. I never know what I'm going to say.
 
 



Le premier qui, ayant enclos un terrain, s'avisa de dire: Ceci est à moi, et trouva des gens assez simples pour le croire, fut le vrai fondateur de la société civile. Que de crimes, de guerres, de meurtres, que de misères et d'horreurs n'eût point épargnés au genre humain celui qui, arrachant les pieux ou comblant le fossé, eût crié à ses semblables: Gardez-vous d'écouter cet imposteur; vous êtes perdus, si vous oubliez que les fruits sont à tous, et que la terre n'est à personne.

The first man who, having enclosed a piece of ground, bethought himself of saying This is mine, and found people simple enough to believe him, was the real founder of civil society. From how many crimes, wars, and murders, from how many horrors and misfortunes might not any one have saved mankind, by pulling up the stakes, or filling up the ditch, and crying to his fellows: Beware of listening to this impostor; you are undone if you once forget that the fruits of the earth belong to us all, and the earth itself to nobody.

No comments:

Post a Comment