Those bothersome people
Going on about a homeland,
Let’s go in there now
And bomb them into oblivion,
The general said and
Banged his ham fist on the table.

In through the open window flew
A dove, landed on the conference table
Dipped its beak in a glass of water
As clearing its throat before speaking:
“General, sir! You’ve to kill them all, even their shadows,
For if even one escape the dream of freedom will prevail.”

The general’s aide-de-camp wrung
The bird’s neck with hands that knew no subtlety
And in through the open window,
Flew a thousand doves’ shadows
Which no hands or guns can kill.