Who could have seen
this life spoken, witnessed
traveling by the wayside
by my side each dream a message from every elder.
'Mijo, do not give up on these dreams.'
'What dreams? I do not have any.'
'When you were born you fell asleep.'
I have been fighting wars that do not belong to me.
I see.
When I am asleep I can dream.
It is only these dreams that give me something true to walk toward.
Something pure enough to fight for.
It is a gift to collect the voices, dreams and hopes
to collect and live a part of
each color chosen by our great Spirit.
I have been chosen
to not give up.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem