trilingual post
Our joy is measured in wrong side- backwards steps
We count deceptions caught in eyelid hooks
Our Death is ever closer, breathing down our necks
And our sickness is free, without a paycheck
Our time is measured in years and seconds
The sand of aspirations is hiding under soles, you laugh, you don’t laugh
Children spring out like tassels from the poor heart just transplanted from a soldier
Who had died defending the desert, on others’ duty…
Our smiles are measured, significantly taxed, all that you have left to do is
Catch the last train that still runs between Vega and sternly
Our measures are measured in slices of hell
la nostra gioia è misurata in passi storti – indietro
contiamo inganni agganciati dalle palpebre
la nostra morte è sempre più vicino, ci sta con il fiato sul collo
e il male ci è gratis, senza stipendio,
il…
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color of the world 