Go home, seems to be the meaning of the border itself, rather than an imaginary line to give shape to the crowd’s delirium, in addition to atlases and globes.
Go home, yours or not, as long as it is not ours, they seem to sing as a choir, the disgraced mice who are following the false Piped Piper with orange hairpiece.
Go back where you came from, it could be the complete translation, further extending hatred and inhumanity of the used ink.
Only two words, he says, the elected bulwark to protect fears and pusillanimity among the low instincts of his people.
That is the manifesto of an old cry, already shouted out by the greatest rascals of past history.
Two words.
Well, while the soul suffering from chronic romance whispered I love, the creature left alone exclaimed I exist, the truly human being – before the question about who will not turn away from others, needed just one, me, that’s how we may summarize the vocabulary of the scarecrow made of straw and misery: go home.
You know what?
With impassive gait of their own path, the marching peoples obey the order received.
They will not stop.
Because the earth, all.
It is their home...
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