Now we will count to twelveand we will all keep stillfor once on the face of the earth,let’s not speak in any language;let’s stop for a second,and not move our arms so much.It would be an exotic momentwithout rush, without engines;we would all be togetherin a sudden strangeness.Fishermen in the cold seawould not harm whalesand the man gathering saltwould not look at his hurt hands.Those who prepare green wars,wars with gas, wars with fire,victories with no survivors,would put on clean clothesand walk about with their brothersin the shade, doing nothing.What I want should not be confusedwith total inactivity.Life is what it is about...If we were not so single-mindedabout keeping our lives moving,and for once could do nothing,perhaps a huge silencemight interrupt this sadnessof never understanding ourselvesand of threatening ourselves withdeath.Now I’ll count up to twelveand you keep quiet and I will go.