They did not recognize me in the shadowsThat suck away my color in this PassportAnd to them my wound was an exhibitFor a tourist Who loves to collect photographsThey did not recognize me,Ah . . . Don’t leave The palm of my hand without the sunBecause the trees recognize meDon’t leave me pale like the moon!
All the birds that followed my palmTo the door of the distant airportAll the wheatfieldsAll the prisonsAll the white tombstones All the barbed BoundariesAll the waving handkerchiefsAll the eyeswere with me,But they dropped them from my passport
Stripped of my name and identity?On soil I nourished with my own hands?Today Job cried outFilling the sky:Don’t make and example of me again!Oh, gentlemen, Prophets,Don’t ask the trees for their namesDon’t ask the valleys who their mother is>From my forehead bursts the sward of lightAnd from my hand springs the water of the riverAll the hearts of the people are my identitySo take away my passport!
All the birds that followed my palmTo the door of the distant airportAll the wheatfieldsAll the prisonsAll the white tombstones All the barbed BoundariesAll the waving handkerchiefsAll the eyeswere with me,But they dropped them from my passport
Stripped of my name and identity?On soil I nourished with my own hands?Today Job cried outFilling the sky:Don’t make and example of me again!Oh, gentlemen, Prophets,Don’t ask the trees for their namesDon’t ask the valleys who their mother is>From my forehead bursts the sward of lightAnd from my hand springs the water of the riverAll the hearts of the people are my identitySo take away my passport!
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