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Conditions

Rita Ribeiro

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...


 
 
 

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