Non è un film [English translation]

It's not a film what happens around us,

what we see every day,

what we film while looking away.

It's not a film and they're not extras,

the people who are different, suspended, scattered

between us and the background,

and the rest of the world which crosses the border,

but the border is round and it moves

but it moves as we move our eyes.

It seems far because we're late,

continuously, constantly, an instant is enough.

One step away from downtown it's already too far.

One step away from the sea, it's already too much mountain.

One step away from here, everything was the countryside.

Today everything is different, a life never-before-seen.

This here is not a film and you're not the protagonist.

You can shout 'Cut!' but you're not the director.

You can believe you're on top but you're at the bottom of the list.

This is not a film and our beautiful houses

are not in danger of being invaded.

It's not a strange army disembarking on land.

They're not aliens declaring war on each other.

They're only men crossing the borders.

Men with women, the elder with children.

The poor with the unfortunate escaping from hunger.

One on top of another for weeks on end

like cattle in cars across the desert.

They follow a road at the mercy of the unknown

to remain free but forced to become slaves.

All piled up in compartments inside messy ships

like our ancestors against monsters and dragons

on a journey through hell that you reserve and pay for.

Either you survive or drown, this is the limit

'cause it's not a film, there's no happy ending.

This is like one of those terrifying films,

from Transylvania, no vampires come but occupants.

From Santo Domingo, neither fugitives nor zombies

but girls condemned to be fucked by someone.

From the Philippines, maids and even from Bangladesh.

From Belarus, only meat for lap dances.

They escape so as to satisfy our vices and whims.

They're the prey, we're the monsters.

They're the food, we're the dinner guests.

And if they're the leftovers, then we're worse than pigs,

all ready to devour until we're satisfied

but also ready to complain about the stench of the multicoloured humanity

which we need, which helps us and supports us.

This is not a film but you'll see it becomes one.

Pay attention and be ready 'cause when it's time to film the good ones always win.

Choose which side to be on.

Choose which side to be on,

on the side of those who encourage.

Choose which side to be on,

on the side of the sea.

Choose which side to be on,

on the side of the sea.

Choose which side to be on,

on the side of the sea.