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I know my path...
my endless path...

I go alone...
My trail is plain...

There is a sound in my heart:
A deep sound !
A sound of love
A sound of peace.

- Can you hear ?

Open your ears:
Be quiet !
My sound is silence.


Music flows from my hands
as a whirlwind of voices;
sometimes it's only a cry;
at times it is also silence.

Crowds shouting and running...
children smiling and crawling...
My music is voice of many,
born out of my nights...
daughter of my days.


My harp is silent.
I can't play.
Strange visions came
to my nights,
as ghosts who wander
in a nightmare.

The world was shaking...
man against man..
a delirium of madness.
Women carrying their babies
in despair,
trying to climb the hills
and find refuge.

Oh, people !
You have been feeding hatred !
You have been spreading death !
Can't you see it ?

I look at the distant star...
she is also silent.
I can't tune my harp...
shall I wait and cry ?


It is harvest time...
The peasantt can't gather the wheat !
Land is empy.

Heavens keeps its face occult...
Ocean hides its inmost treasure...
Man has gone against life:
Life is angry !

Hands scraping the soil in despair,
babies weeping upon the ashes.
Earth spinning aroung in eternal space
like a guideless ship without noise or motion !


The children bodies shake:
they are cold and hungry !
In that hut a widow cries
as she looks at her babies.

The fireplace is dark - no wood!
In the kitchen, starving rats are running madly
looking at the children with strange eyes...

The woman gets revolted !
Her heart beats harder in her chest and she says:
- Don't fear, my babies, I'll bring you food.

She leaves the hut.
Dark clouds cover the sky
spreading shadows on the fields.
Her steps are firm and straight !

When she returns,
she brings fruits to feed the children,
she carries wood to build a fire.
She smiles.

Where did you find all these things ?
- asks one of the children.
- In God's land, answers the mother.


I saw a little girl dying...
she was proud of herself, she had beauty.
Someone came, smashed her under his feet.

Be careful ! Watch out !
There are children on your way.

The peace in the dwelling is gone.
- What is that ?

- It is the step of the soldier - he destroys !

Go away !..Go away !..
We want nothing but living,
nothing but giving,
nothing but loving !
Go away !!!

The steps hesitate...
he has a mission to accomplish...

He couldn't see the beauty of the girl.


My poem was born from my tears...

Have I not cried for thousands of nights
in my lonely struggle for survival ?
Have I not fallen for countless times
in my lasting journey to my freedom ?

I died and reborn like the seasons of the world.
When did it start ?

Danger, violence, hunger and sadness...
those were my companions.

I wish I could laugh...
a loud, vibrating laughter.

I was pregnant of suffering...
My poem is my child.


The innocent cries.
He is tired of showing his beauty
to nobody's eyes.
He is ready to depart.

No more games,
no more jumps,
no more laughter,
no more calls.

He hesitates for a moment :
- Shall I leave ?

The wind of life is blowing...
He is alone...
Silence !

He smiles to the star...
He goes.


I have been waiting for the morning,
counting the minutes and breaths
of this weak body of mine...

Death surrounds my being,
anxious to embrace me !

I resist,
I send her away
but she laughs.

I'd like to think I'm wrong;
I've been dreaming of sunshine,
I wait and hope.

But I don't know,
really I don't...
how long this hope will live
and my resistance last.

Will morning come before I'm gone ?


Waves are coming and going,
the motion of the ocean is endless.
I shall stand up and cry
before those waves take me away.

I cry. My last cry !
There was so much to be said,
so much to be sung,
but the waves approach
and I feel my time is gone.

I have knocked at many doors,
I tuned my harp so many times,
but the doors were locked
and the audience gone !
My words were kept inside my mouth,
my melody, lost in the empty room.

The waves approach more and more...
I'm going !
Let me just cry this last cry.
It is the cry of my loving heart,
It is the song of my loneliness.

I go. The ocean covers me. I die.


There lays my body, at the bottom of the hill.
The soft breeze blows, covering my corpse
with the falling leaves of autumn.

- Be compassionate to that body ! -
shouts my mind in silence.
She gave birth to other bodies with pain,
walked thirsty along arid routes,
climbed with hunger the unaccessible mountain.

She was slave of fear,
prisoner of her own senses,
exposed to shame, injustice and despair.
But she went on her path with courage,
learned to overcome weakness,
didn't bend her head with submission.

As my mind cries these words,
Earth opens itself with much care and love,
and gives my body refuge and peace.


I try to remove the dust from my skin
and brake the chains that keep me tight...
No power born from my will
can set me out of my jail.

- Rivers ! Come over me
with the impetus of your flood !
- Storms ! Send upon me
your thunder and your lightning !

Motionless, I watch my weakness,
building expectations for a new day,
with open eyes and silent mind.

Will I ever be free ?


- You fell down...
I heard your call.
I came to dry your tears and give advice.

Give the heavy rain a chance to cool your burns.
Listen to heavens' voice and find your truth.
You have a message: a new story to be told.
Don't turn your back to your destiny,
follow the trail and keep going.

Build a new world with your hands,
from the ashes of the old.
Renew the land with your breath.
Plant deep: new grains will grow.

Become the master of time,
open the road to the unknown.
Be strong, and turn down the walls
which stand against your freedom.

Your fate is glory, beyond the stars !


No power can suffocate Life's growth.
No weapons will prevent the New to come
and shout his truth.
They can destroy thousands and thousands,
new ones will come and speak aloud.

It is the voice of Youth,
the call of Freedom.
It comes from the Source,
born from ageless Wisdom.

You are this new one, my Innocent.
This is your time and your truth.
Will you keep quiet and let it die ?


- Listen to the noise...
It is the pulse of Life
beating without ending.
Listen !

- Do you cry ?
What is the reason for your sadness ?
- Please, don't cry.

There is hope for tomorrow - a great peace.
Just keep moving with decision. There is faith and there is love,
so why don't you listen to the noise ?

It is the pulse of Life...
its eternal beat.
Listen !
It is God's heart !


Dawn is coming...
The first rays of the new sun
are shining.
Hope is coming through !


The old man is sitting on the rock.
His look is calm.
He's contemplating future with hope.

A moment ago,
tears fell down his face,
but now...
faith is born.

Spring won't come
unless winter renews earth's soil.
Death is always sad,
but it is also hope.

Wake up !
A little seed was planted;
it became a tree and the tree is growing.

Don't cry.
Life is reborn !


As I open my eyes I see Life.
Life is everywhere...

People, flowers, storms, dogs...
It is Life made visible to my human eyes.

Beyond that, what is seen
I open my eyes and feel love.
But love is unseen.


It rains...
The green is spreading around...
My soul is rejoicing.

A bird comes flying...
- Shall we move ?
- No, be quiet.
Let us not disturb his peace.

The bird sings a lovely song.

After a while he flies away.
We go our way too.

Still it rains !


Why so many bloom at once ?
Snow is gone and life is renewed.

Hope !
Hope for the dead:
life is coming !

- Take a deep breath:
Can you feel ?
It's life coming to your body,
it is love giving you renewal.

Go !
Go along your path without pain or fear.
Be proud: your life is Truth !


The shadows are gone...
there is a feast in my heart !

Let my music be played
in the middle of the desert:
Life will grow !
Let my poem be recited
to the ashes of the graves:
Life will awaken !

My sound is renewal,
it is Life !
My poem is no cry,
it is faith !


The innocent blows his flute...
It sounds with a new beauty,
like the freshness of dew
and the silence of sunset.

It is the sound of tears...
smiles, fears and joys,
of his journey to his freedom;

He's found a town
and built a lodge.

The children are dwelling
in peace, among the flowers.
The dwelling is refuge,
it is the kiss of morning.


As I enter in the town
people come to me;
children hold my hands
and the elder greet me.

I don't say: - I'm the one !
I've learned to welcome morning,
I've learned to welcome night.

My way is simplicity:
I stand quiet and listen.

They come to me and ask:
- Tell us a story.
I tell it and they weep.
Their smiles are life,
their tears, joy.

Who understands these words ?
It is a tongue that I've been learning,
it is the expression of my compassion,
the language of my bliss.


Laughters and cries are heard
as I walk along my path,
like days and nights...
summers and winters...
in my timeless walk.

Other innocents are joining
this new path and this song.
No longer alone,
I go,
and other pilgrims follow
along this endless journey.

Maria Saboya
Bloomington, Indiana, USA

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