Broken Tiles

Image: Anonimous Francista

It is blurry

the homeland from a distance

But what is the homeland? you ask me

I look at it

like a loving woman with long braids

you see it and point it out

amidst the stench and the authoritarian smoke

you point it out

like a bread that tastes like distant glory in the sublime rage of the abused.

You are small, I say

and perhaps you will rise like autumn to a river

while at your side I walk

undecided both between terror and courage, children between the tumult 

and the grim faces of barbarism.

The Homeland is:

Body without body

Binding of delirium

the light of the lamp in the night

that gives the necessary shelter

Homeland is to walk with your head held high

Sweat, effort and light

honest work

Study, love and sacrifice

Homeland is

what we do together walking

to return

and rebuild the broken tiles of our sky