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