You are stupid, Trump

[Amer Al Azem Translation]

The Forest That Rewrote Itself
By Amer Al Azem

Wars do not begin when they are declared,
but when the powerful believe
that noise… creates truth.

In a forest
where the world’s paths intersect,
a raging bull stood.

He raised his voice… as if it were law,
and struck the ground… as if it were destiny.

Beside him,
a cunning fox moved.

It lacked the strength for direct confrontation,
yet mastered the art of igniting fires—
then selling fear
to those already burning.

The fox said:
“There is a danger forming… in the East.”

The bull did not question.
He charged.

And so began
forty nights of fire—

Not merely a war,
but a test… of prestige.

But in the East…
there was not what they expected.

Not prey,
but a mountain predator—
from lands that know how to endure.

It does not shout,
does not display,
strikes when needed,
and falls silent
when silence is understood.

As the fire spread…
the forest did not remain still.

From the North,
wolves descended—
knowing the paths of confrontation.

From the South,
serpents crawled—
unseen…
yet their effect endured.

From afar,
birds struck… then vanished.

From the ground itself,
blows emerged—
without sound…
yet they changed the equation.

Little by little…
the battle
was no longer the same.

On the fifteenth night,
the fox bled.

On the twentieth,
the bull stumbled.

On the thirtieth,
the loud voice became…
defense, not prestige.

And on the fortieth night…

There was no celebration.

There was…
realization.

The bull stood—
yet the world
no longer saw him the same.

His power remained,
but his image…
had fractured.

As for the fox,
it lost its shine,
and no longer convinced
even those who once believed.

As for the mountain predator…

It did not emerge
to declare victory.

Yet it…

opened paths
once closed,
stopped what had been imposed,
and forced the forest
to rethink itself.

Its wounds were visible,
yet its presence…
grew heavier.

A young voice asked:
“Who won?”

The elder replied:

“In some wars…
victory is not measured
by what falls,
but by what changes.”

Then he said:

“The bull lost its image.
The fox lost its cunning.

The predator—
did not gain land,
but gained… prestige.”

And in a distant place…
where balance is observed,
not noise,

There was
a lion
that never appeared.

It did not need to fight,
for it had seen enough.

It saw that the forest,
after forty nights of fire,

had chosen
to rewrite itself…

In a way
no one
had expected.

And since that day…

The paths
were no longer the same,
the calculations
were no longer the same,
and fear…
was no longer the same.