You are the fragrance of rocks,
the lamentation of each flower,
the unbearable heat of the moon,
the icy coolness of the blazing sun,
...
Come, take half
of the remainder of my life,
but fill every moment
of the half that is mine
...
I offer this water to you,
my father, grandfather and great grandfather,
and to you, soldiers and generals
who fought for us and who fought against us
...
Sometimes I wish I should return,
throw this body to the ground before the judges
installed in all the marketplaces of my country,
and tell them, come, hang it
...
I know there is blood on my hands.
I further know my hands will be stained
with much further blood.
...
I had thought
I had forgotten you entirely.
...