Walk, walker, go on.
Follow the track of the sea.
Walk on, walker, you know
that they can deport you.
Your steps surprised, strange city,
feeling the nostalgia of your own place.
You can’t look back.
Where are you going to get to?

Walk, walker, go on.
Tell me what you’re looking for.
Walk on walker, tell me:
tell me where your home is.
Your steps without borders, illegal destination,
breathing in secret, quiet freedom.
You can’t look back
helpless in the sea.

I roamed the neighbourhoods,
I searched the portals,
and I find nothing.
I walked in processions,
I lost myself in the corners,
and I don’t care about anything.
My yesterday’s trousers are lying in the sun.
Walk, walker, go on.
Feel the contrast of bread.
Walk clandestine and see

if you can work today.
Your steps escaping from that officer,
feeling the pack and no regrets.
You can’t look back –
or you’ll have to testify.

I walked the canals,
I hid in the volcanoes
and I don’t feel anything anymore.
I picked up the crumbs,
I revived in the barge
and around the dawn.
My thoughts of yesterday lay wounded in the sun.
I toured cathedrals,
I discovered the glaciers,
asleep on the esplanade.
I travelled the byways,
I set off into storms,
lost in the morning.
My yesterday’s scars are drying in the sun.

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