Oh, mercenaries of the Republic,
you are counterfeit (liars), you are inhuman,
you bear the guilt of hunger and the plague,
you bear the guilt of ignorance,
and you bear the guilt of death!
Mercenaries of the Republic,
you speak, and you declaim, and you squander
upon bloated campaigns
to buy the sanction of the masses
whom you so coldly deceive…
Mercenaries of the Republic,
you do not feel the wretched child,
you do not trace the furrows of the pensioner,
you hold no regard for any soul!
— they are but guardians of their own gain —
Oh, mercenaries of the Republic,
who look on from your ease, and your luxury,
your gluttony, your rest, and your contempt,
at the slaughter of the soldiers who fight
(for nothing) at your command: (for nothing)!
Spurning the ruined and the pestilent
who pay you with their very lives
(for nothing, for each) within the bureaus!
— you are mercenaries —
Mercenaries of the Republic,
you are malignant mercenaries!
you are perverted mercenaries!
you are filthy mercenaries!
— you are mercenaries! —
Pietro Nardella Dellova. in NO PEITO HÁ UMA PORTA QUE SE ABRE. Editora L&S, 1990, p. 31