Poem By jan oskar hansen
The white face of Europe is slowly fading away, middleclass
couples have few children; there are exiting careers to follow
in the world of business, media and the glitzy entertainment
industry. Shake their heads, in united dismay, when reading
about a poor woman, from a sink estate, unmarried and with
seven healthy, white children; they reward her with contempt
and without shame let her live in disgraceful poverty.
There was a time, not so long ago, when women like that got
a medal and was called mother of a grateful nation.
When the same couples are mid forties and successful they
miss children and import some,3,4 or 5, preferable healthy
ones from Asia or Chad in Africa, shower them with riches
and a good education. Should we worry? No, not at all, they
will grow up and be as, say, French, middleclass and tedious
as their surrogate parents. Famous film stars, that before had
a tame leopard as accessory, now travel with a multi racial
orphanage on tow; and there is nothing to add to that, they
are children rescued from poverty…we must rejoice.
Europe now has a new face, a smoother, darker skinned one,
on holiday it can sit longer in the sun without getting burned.
There are, however, a minority of people set against this they
want a pure white race talk about European culture, without
ever having read a book other than pamphlets of hate; losers
with minds blinded by fear of the future and with hearts that
know not of love, fight desperately against a tide of humanity
that will drown them, and their loathsome racism, till there is
no trace left of them to tell us they ever existed.