Translated by: Lourenço Ramos
No one thinks of the conditions.
Those in which I am writing,
Of the pen I am using,
Or whether I still want to live.
No one thinks of the past,
Of the campfires, the firelighters,
Of the poor who have served the rich
Or of their bones that served in battles.
No one thinks of the conditions.
Whether the neighbour has something to eat.
In a self-centred world,
Only those who refuse to see it are blind.
No one thinks of the conditions.
Of the calluses on each hand,
Of how many moms and dads work
To feed their children and their nation.
No one thinks of the conditions.
When they have the taste of money in their mouth
When they have so much
That happiness feels like too little.
It's a human defect,
Of those who have a body but no heart,
Of those who deny help
To those who do not have a floor.
No one thinks of the conditions.
Of the cold stones on the sidewalk,
Of the food on our table.
No one thinks of how heavy life is.
Do not forgive the blood in this world!
In this world where we can hug each other,
Where we choose to backstab
And to make children's smiles bleed.
No one thinks of the conditions.
Of what brought us here.
Therefore, if I have claimed to be human
I lied for my humanity...
Comments