To us in disorder but in intransigence
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To us who have to bite and to us in urgency
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To us not in fashion, to us in the backdrop
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To us who don't know how to hold our bodies
_____
To us in the universe, to us in infinity
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To us in the lack of air, astonished to be alive
_____
To us in writing and to us without words
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To us in the cross-outs and in the backpack
_____
Who dream of forest, who dream of river
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To us in the subway, who look for the light
_____
To us who chase magnificent losers
_____
To us in the illusion of a prophetic path
_____
To us who overflow in laughter and tears
_____
Who don't mourn our days of flame
_____
When we were 10, by giant strides
_____
Pedaling, pedaling for eternity
_____
We'll walk a thousand more moons, a thousand more days before tomorrow
_____
Before tomorrow takes the chips of hope we hold
_____
We'll cross a thousand more dunes with our flaws, our missteps
_____
With our soles of mist, whoever we are
_____
To us who play neither the poor nor the fool
_____
Because we see others sink in front of us
_____
We can have a roof and a rope around the neck
_____
We can have our rights and walk on our knees
_____
To us who talk to ourselves, many, in the mirror
_____
To us who see double, who see black and white
_____
To us the too polite who don't think any less
_____
Who turn the other cheek but clench our fists
_____
To us who come off as unsympathetic
_____
And above all as idiots for chasing the authentic
_____
To us in the songs from 40 years ago
_____
But to us who keep watch ahead, ahead, ahead
_____
To us in the reels, in the big clumsy
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In the postcards and in the bonfires
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To us who will never sell our truths
_____
To us who'll implode and it won't take long
_____
We'll walk a thousand more moons, a thousand more days before tomorrow
_____
Before tomorrow takes the chips of hope we hold
_____
We'll cross a thousand more dunes with our flaws, our missteps
_____
With our soles of mist, whoever we are
_____
To us who run away where they talk in vain about television or shopping
_____
To us who are here, who fall like everyone
_____
Into the trap, into the networks, into the void and the overflow
_____
But who get ready for when it'll be over
_____
When we'll have to talk and become friends again
_____
When we'll be able to say everything and its opposite
_____
Without it having to go through a motherboard
_____
When we won't be able to know who goes where anymore
_____
Know who's worth how much and who doesn't care about us
_____
To us without flag, to us without label
_____
To us without ingots, to us without glitter
_____
To us in our glasses of water or in our black coffees
_____
Who don't mask our nights of hardship
_____
Who don't toast on the trendy squares
_____
Who whistle our fragility into the wind
_____
We'll walk a thousand more moons, a thousand more days before tomorrow
_____
Before tomorrow takes the chips of hope we hold
_____
We'll cross a thousand more dunes with our flaws, our missteps
_____
With our soles of mist
_____
We'll walk a thousand more moons, a thousand more days before tomorrow
_____
Before tomorrow takes the chips of hope we hold
_____
We'll cross a thousand more dunes with our flaws, our missteps
_____
With our soles of mist, whoever we are
_____
To you on the other side of the wall or the sea
_____
In besieged cities, the blood and the dust
_____
To you without speech, to you with empty stomachs
_____
In humiliation, to you with solid hearts
_____
To you behind the bars under the bombings
_____
To you in drowning, to you the dissidents
_____
To you in injustice, to you behind locks
_____
To your daughters, to your sons, to you, to you, to you