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Madagascar
Alexandra
9 Dec 2003
And now a story : In broad daylight, here she passes :
(foretelling like happiness - smiling
as if at a genial secret such as
luck - laughing as if it were a joke)
the golden-hair-child, the Dreamer,
the Adder cast an evil eye on her. The Unicorn
feels her from afar, tenderly draws near,
makes a bridle out of her fair hair,
turns into a Centaur
then steals her. How about the Adder,
you ask. Only the gizzard
has venom, and swells and grows...
Madagascar is among the rare places that can approach the idea of paradise. But even in this "world apart" we can sense man's ancestral "appetite for destruction". We are so proud of our articulated speech, of our rational thinking, that we, many times, have the impression we can do whatever without being punished. But Mother Nature strikes again - we deforest Madagascar's jungles, we deforest the world of values, we deforest the Cedrus Forest from The Poem of Ghilgamesh, and that means using friendship as a weapon, not as a sanctity, forgetting about immortality and drowning ourselves in the despair of death.
Madagascar brings out childhood memories: paradise is just a long-lost remembrance, the place where anything, and by that I mean ANYTHING can happen, the place where Admiral Boom once fought against what, we wonder, from P.L.Travers's famous book, Mary Poppins, a place where magic, fairy tale and children books characters get together and chat a bit about the difficulties of real life, about the jungle out there (I bet Kipling's Sharkan is really complaining about the jungle out there), it is the land of dreams, the world of childhood, that, let's be onest, is as close of paradise as we'll ever get...
The moral is: Destroy Madagascar, destroy the forest, and you destroy a reachable paradise...
So: When your soul is tired of living in this world, go see the mountains.
Reason shouldn't take over every passion, wanderlust, poetry, fantasy, and so on and so forth.
Don't imagine freedom, you'll be cursed forever. .
Hide away your stores for the winter; you never know when bad times may come.
Stop living, it only makes it worse.
Things are clear... is a joke, life is a jungle (from Madagascar, probably) so take it easy, life is like a nightrain, out ta get your innocence, and there will always be a Mr. Brownstone, a Michelle and a Rocket Queen to guide them towards that Paradise City everybody wants to reach (could it be Madagascar?), like a sweet child that is begging for a little protection...Anything goes...
..................
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