"A vivir que son dos días", Juan Carmelo García
This morning, I've sadly thought a minute about the "little Lampedusa" en Berlin. Those sommer days, I always found some justification to only visite it furtively. I spent two months there and today, when I was reading an English book, I remembered my hard problems to develop this language, not only because my bad or poor level, as them, I fleetingly intuited the pain of my insecurity where I felt myself as a foreigners althought that situation wasn't hard because in my country I'm working.
There, they dreamt the heat in the cold of the seach.
What they can think about us?
How could they to be feel when they saw people as me? Can I be comfortable with my answer that: we aren't be able to change any?
There were always Deutsch people who appeased my failure of act; the last day, I also had the opportunity to share two hours with them. Althought, I'd money, I wasn't sure about me, as them?. Why I didn't like take risk?
I fastly went out with my money but without their reality, wasn't it perhaps my pliable life which I'd grow up in the middle of their impoverishment?
I gave them small things. Everyday, I remember them from my weakness, from my knowledge that we're living from our pillaging
Programa de Angels Barcelo desde Lampedusa. Sometimes, as a man said, I feel as politician who punish despoiled people
No hay comentarios:
Publicar un comentario