The roots are deep, breaking stone, In every crack lies the pulse of safety, So that wild flowers may claim the sky, And echoes of history burst forth.
In tempestuous ballet, they sway, Despite storms—bold underfoot, Allowing strength to be drawn, Even from the echoes of machines.
O, sweet wild yearning!
Blending into crescendos of metal, Upturning, transforming spaces, Let’s find the rhythm in our chaos!
- FT Marinetti