translated
by Caterina Cipriano
photos by Marcel Mussen
edited
by Marek Kazmierski
The
Roads of our Parents
Our
parents travelled the most winding of road.
Landing
in another country, in different places, among other faces, an
unknown language has muted them.
The
choice should not be between between poverty and contempt and yet
this is what has been done to them, this the anger that flows in our
veins, that paralyses our souls.
The
paradox is complete: freedom of expression means far-right
advertisements in our mailboxes mixing with anti-racist leaflets.
If I
translate: racism must proliferate in order for them to defend you.
This is chaos. But imagine how unsafe, how exploited, all this leaves
us feeling.
The
Question
Almost
a year that you have been unfree, but then the same goes for us too.
Your
plight has had a considerable impact on your children, on myself.
How
can I be indifferent toward your situation because I'm the mother of
your children?
To
their suffering, their distress, their silence, the answers I make up
for them.
I am
angry at myself, I am angry at you.
When
it comes to them, my feelings are raw in the extreme… isn’t that
a normal reaction to have?
I
have been there, I relive it, with them through their experience
which you inflict upon them.
The
question is not whether you are innocent. The truth would only
amplify the pain, question the ideas of belonging, cast further doubt
on destiny.
Hello
Solitude
I'm
ready to join you again.
I
know you came looking for me,
even
if I have tried to escape you.
Maybe
you are my destiny.
Maybe
I love you.
Maybe
I will never do without you.
There
are parts of me that hate you
and
others that know only you.
I
heard you sneer when I thought about parting from you,
the
trace of distance over days.
But
these are the scenes of my life, and you are one of its stars.
So,
solitude, how many years have you been present?
I
know it was three years and two months.
There
are notches in my heart.
Some
happiness, but why are you back?
Revelation
The
day I stopped believing that God was angry at me
I
felt deeply soothed.
I let
my guilt vanish
the
day I understood He wanted my best
and
began my search for the truth about Him.
The
day I stopped thinking that God was angry at me,
I
accepted my flaws
without
magnifying them at the same time.
This
day is a revelation,
This
day is a release.
The
day I stopped believing that God was punishing me,
I
understood that he had been sheltering me from something.
Sing
Sing,
Sing
to me
My
soul has deserted me,
What
am I without it?
My
candour,
my
youth vanished,
my
hopes decimated.
Subtle
is the moment,
the
one that cuts me from my past,
that
reminds me,
constantly,
that
time has passed.
Sing
to me,
as
far
as I
can hear,
may
the echo strengthen me.
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