"The one (Socrates) drank the poison
The other was hanging on the Cross
What have you done you stinking murderous people?"
The real aspect of the world is unfolded on a cross,
which is a symbol of martyrdom.
The blood, which is the central axis of the work,
is the infallible sign of man’s assassinating disposition
against everything that is benign and exceptional.
The opening on the dry land leaves open the hope
for a luminous exaltation of mankind
which will exterminate every ideal of its
that can transubstantiate its future
at all historic moments.