Like we wouldn't have found Terra Nullius
And the Natives aren't born of land.
But it's 2020! Who dares not think ahead?
My heart is Italian, not my cement.
My mind is Sicilian, not my marble.
My spirit is wine, not angry permanence,
But fluid transience, song and love.
Down goes Columbus in ships of stone,
His navigations would always end like this,
Discovery and obscurity share a seascape
Of lost explorers in ocean graves.
We create false idols out of the living
But why celebrate the falsely dead.
I'll not give in on loving and being no one.
Down goes Columbus, my heart sings,
I'll live for the living and set sail for the end.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem