Tuesday, June 15, 2010


The refugees arrived well
With death hanging in their luggages
With their looks of surprise
In a landscape almost incomprehensible

While crossing corridors
And electronic door metal detectors
Thinking of their land left behind

Languages appear as unknown animals
Doors and windows are also foreign

After the stamps in their documents
By the dry serious official faces
The unknown initials in their passports
They are entering the unknown

So the refugees arrive
Carrying pains and nostalgia
Their views stuck in a landscape
That was left near their home

Here it is not as it once was
The homeland, the homeland
Here the grass grows quite different
There is no one that knows them

Go ahead, ladies and gentlemen
Photographs before anything
A row and a door
They should go as they salute

In this perfect landscape
In this world without pain or rage

Gone are all their families
Gone are their past memories
Nothing will ever be the same again
Comply with the cross of exile.

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