I Want a Country
I want a country
Let the sky be blue the bough green the cornfield yellow
Let it be a land of birds and flowers
I want a country
Let there be no pain in the head no yearning in the heart
Let there be an end to brothers' quarrels
I want a country
Let there be no rich and poor no you and me
On winter days let everyone have hose and home
I want a country
Let living be like loving from the heart
If there must be complaint let it be of death
FREE
We live free
Air is free clouds are free
Valleys and hills are free
Rain and mud are free
The outside of cars
The entrances of cinemas
And the shop windows are free
Bread and cheese cost money
But stale water is free
Freedom can cost your head
But prison is free
We live free
Song
Your lips are red
Your hands are white
Take my hands child
Hold them a while.
In the village where I was born
There were no walnut trees
That's why I yearn for coolness
Fondle me a while.
In the village where I was born
There were no cornfields
So scatter your hair child
Flaunt it a while.
In the village where I was born
The north winds blew
That's why my lips are aaaaaed
Kiss them a while
In the village where I was born
Bandits struck by night
That's why I hate to be alone
Speak with me a while
In the village where I was born
Men did not know how to laugh
That's why I'm still so unhappy
Make me laugh a while
You are light and beauty like my country
The village where I was born was beautiful too
Now tell me of the place where you were born
Tell me a while.
AGE THIRTY-FIVE
The age is thirty-five! Half of the way!
We're in the middle of life like a Dante.
The fire we felt at the time of our youth
When complaining is no use any longer
Goes out without caring about tears.
Did it snow on my temples or what's this?
God this wrinkled face belongs to me?
Or those purple bulges beneath my eyes?
Why did you become enemy to me
Oh the mirrors I knew as friends for years.
How the man changes with time!
The man at those pictures is not me.
Oh those days my desires and excitement!
This cheerful man is not me.
That I lack of troubles is but a lie.
My first love like only a dream
Is now strange even as a memory.
Our ways separated one by one;
With the friends we began our lives
My loneliness gradually increases.
There was also another colour of sky!
I recognized a stone hard so late.
Water would drown man fire would burn!
Everyday rising is a trouble
One understands when he comes to this age.
Quince's yellow pomegranate's red autumns!
Which I accept a little further each year.
Why are the birds still circling around at sky?
Why is this funeral? Who died again?
How many such gardens did I see topsy-turvy?
What can you do death comes to all us.
You fall asleep; and you don't wake up.
Who knows where how at what age?
You will have a single prayer long sovereignty
By the grave stone as if it was your throne.