I once saw you in the crossing of the eternal hub
at the time of terror and uncanny fear,
to fold, to worry and to be scared
and before the days show themselves, to shut up.
Once more from the same, same roads same circles
barking men, frightened dogs,
mourning mothers, and when to rest a bit
when the distances lengthen inside your memory.
In this way unjudging world-makers stage the present
I am tired of everything valid, they are all provocateurs
who hang up on your fear and make stories
and set up crusaders against the unbelieving
from glutted people, with the same character and posture
who will exterminate, whatever seems bad to them.
So, me, since you are afraid I spit on you
I am searching to become whatever you are afraid of.
I become the grave of an insurgent in Iraq
lament in Palestine
blind man in Bosnia-Herzegovina
hungry indigenous in Mexico
thousand explanations of your fear in the dictionary
monk in Tibet- and aboriginal in Australia
mosque burned from fascists in Italy
volunteer doctor from Habana
and child in Tehran from unmarried mother
killed and unburied teacher in Somalia
hunted Turkish writer in France
oil-worker in Benezuela
and a bloodied shirt in Belfast
Brazilian with 8 bullets in his head in London
what else are you afraid of, tell me, and I will become.
I, who make dreams and have many beautiful things to lose
I make the start- I do not want to make peace.
What else (what else) are you afraid of, tell me, and I will become
(what else are you afraid of, and I will become)
even if I have (the most beautiful things to lose) so many and so beautiful things to lose
(I have so many and so beautiful... to lose?)
And not even for a moment (not for a moment, I'm telling you) don't ask what will happen of me
(don't ask of me, you frightened, don't ask)
it's enough for me (really, enough) that I don't want to make peace (that I'm here, and I want to spoil your comfort- tell me, what else are you afraid of!)
What else (what else?) are you afraid of, tell me (and I will become)
I will become a junkie fighting for salvation
thirsty refugee from Nigeria
turban around a proud head
and knife from african steel
slaughtered girl from her parents in China
and orphan in a favela, dying of hunger
What else are you afraid of, tell me and I will become
Algerian who sees the morning in french ports
eyes that look from mountain passages
uneducated Turk that lives in Gazi
and educated Albanian that scares you
in the wall of shame stencil from Banksy
and your nightmare before it dawns
Tell me what else are you afraid of, and I will become..