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Quote by Ion Pillat

“Soldats de plomb… Soldats de plomb, ô, toute mon enfance, quand Hetmans aux cheveux blonds, nous déployions une cohue De héros immortels, oubliés dans quelque bahut, De preux sans crainte en immobiles rangs. Et, nous les enfants, avec nos sabres en bois, partions nous quereller En portant comme étendard des serviettes au soleil flottant. Quel corps à corps, quelle raclée sous les mûriers du verger ! Et après la bataille, combien de morts fuyaient en riant… Ô ! où donc es-tu, guerre, époque innocente ! Maintenant la lutte hurle et la blessure déchirée se lamente, Et les morts meurent vraiment de leur amour de la patrie. Quel dieu-enfant se penche sur les hommes-jouets, Et le soir, les renversant dans les noirs coffrets, Dans les tranchées les poupées de cire ensevelit ?”

Quote by Ion Pillat

Book:Monostiches et autres poèmes (Litterature Roumaine Traduite)
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Monostiches et autres poèmes (Litterature Roumaine Traduite)

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Ion Pillat

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Book:The Diary of a Country Priest
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“I stumbled out into the street, hoping that I looked like a drunken sailor. Everything was all topsy-turvy because my eyes were filled with tears. I clutched my shoes to my chest as I went. I cried loudly, not even bothering to wipe the tears and snot off my face. I just let it all pour down, allowing everybody walking by to see what this world had done to me. If a kid my age walks down the street in her socks, crying her eyes out, then it makes it a bad neighborhood. I was glad I was making their world a shitty place to live.”

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Book:Lullabies for Little Criminals
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