Inevitable in life,
the new life dawns in me: a small
sun with roots that I will have to water deeply
and push to fight their own battle
against the weeds.
Small and poor bread of solidarity,
flag against the cold, fresh water for the blood:
maternal elements that musn’t withdraw
from the heart.
And against melancholy, faith; against
desperation,
the people’s voice
vibrating in the windows of this secret house.
Discovering,
deciphering,
articulating,
setting in motion:
the old works of liberators and martyrs
that are our obligations now
and that walk around counting our steps:
from breakfast to sleep,
from secret to secret,
from action to action,
from life to life.