English

 

 

 

Immigration

 

 

To escape from the tyrannical logic

Of your mother tongue

You wandered, wandering

Through earth’s length and breadth

Subjecting your old self to another syntax

A whole set of grammatical rules

Strangely new to your lips and tips

To expand the map of your mind

Far beyond your home and haven

Yet in the meantime it becomes colonized

By all the puzzling paradoxes

Of this chosen language, for example:

Quicksand can be very slow

Boxing rings are in fact square

And a guinea pig is neither a pig

Nor is it from Guinea

 

 

 

Migrating

 

The cold night is like the tide

Surging from beyond the horizon

You are tired of flying

While the twigs at the bank are full of thorns

 

O Bird, where are you going to perch?

Can you keep flying until day breaks?