Hy-Brasil

max-ernst-decalcomania-epiphany[1]

We have left everyplace
Always a new destination
Our origins are obscure
It was all so long ago
Home was never a place
That could be called home
Just somewhere to flee from
As far and fast as possible
But when we had arrived
Our memories led us astray
Days under a liquid sky
Besides a limpid sea
Glowing gold tinted sun
Held hands in all innocence
Why did we ever leave?
To witness devastation
Ravages of war and famine
The swollen river bursting
Its banks to flood fields
And carry away houses
With all their contents
Of loving living;
To traverse uninhabitable
Glaciated mountains,
To voyage across vast
Scorched earth deserts
And worst of all by far
The suspicious gazes
In every face we meet
Silently saying clearly
That here you don’t belong
You are a stranger here
And strangers aren’t welcome
You will never understand
Our ways and customs
Our rituals and rites
You may be able to
Translate signs and symbols
But the meaning is lost
It will always elude you
You have to be born
And bred in these lands
All émigrés will be exiled
Go back from whence
You came; let us be
In peace, just go back.
We remained undeterred
We travel ever onwards
Somewhere out there is
An Eden yet untouched
A garden grove pristine
The lost long ago but
Never forgotten paradise
Within our hearts
Awaiting us finally
The distant possibility
Of journeys end.

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