Through the walls I hear you
sing so beautifully, I wish you
were here with me, close to me

Maybe, maybe
have I finally, finally
fallen in love

I long for you, your songs so true
your happiness and sadness too
Shall you see mine? I hope so, yes I do

Then we will be each other's
sweet arms where we can go
to be safe from dangers, though

my heart and hands are free
I like to give them, they are mine
If I give them, they still are mine
This is how giving never ends

Through the walls I hear you
sing so beautifully, I wish you
were here with me, close to me

I leave, I take my bag and close the door
bye sunken road, the mailbox in the bend
bye yellow broom with your enchanting scent
bye bench, where grand-dad apple used to explore
the world by following the setting sun
together we have had a lot of fun
I go away, I go away

I feel the wind, where will it blow?
What makes me happy, I don't know
I'm strong enough, I want to find out more
about what I am longing for

Today my new life starts, according to my plan
I'll find a room and take a job, and then I can
begin to grow again, because that's not
possible in the endlessly repeated plot
of living in this country atmosphere
I really will not lock me up in here
I go away, I go away

I feel the wind . . .

It feels so funny, like a school exam
here on my grand-dad's bench, from where I am
looking in the distance; there will be
the new, unknown, with friends, awaiting me
the rush of entertainment, night and day
I go away, I go away

I feel the wind . . .

I feel the wind, I do want more, I go away
and maybe I'll come back here happily one day

The grass, I do remember
the grass where you once lay
just smiling at my smile
now time is passing by
but your flowers still convey
their smells throughout the day
Are you coming soon, coming soon?

     It's easy here, you'll have your wish
     and I'll prepare your favourite dish
     Are you coming soon?
     Tea this afternoon?

This peaceful it can be
a couple under a tree
the hopping and the caw
of a busy jackdaw
while a pink balloon goes high
up through the orange sky
Are you coming soon, coming soon?

     It's easy here, you'll have your wish
     and I'll prepare your favourite dish
     Are you coming soon?
     Tea this afternoon?

The house cleaned-up, the papers read
I weigh the phone and go to bed
there is not much I have to tell
but I can listen very well
     Are you coming soon
     are you coming soon
     are you coming soon?
     Tea this afternoon?

Are we still we?
Please take a break
from being busy for
more and more
Do you have some time
do you have some time for me?

You are so good
in what you do
and what you want
not wasting a day
Do you have some time
do you have some time for me?

I hope I'm not intruding
because: I belong with you
I want to be close, I do
because my love is true
Do you have some time
do you have some time for that?

You thought of me
waiting in a queue
writing “soon I'll see
you, love you too”
Do make some time
do make some time for me

Don't run around
please, feel the ground
on which you stand
life is passing
so quickly
so quickly

Talking at public tables
and parties mixed up
with the music

seeing a yellow thought
turn orange
frankly and flushed

in the nest of fuss
blending warmly
into welcoming comfort

hanging out in each other
untwisted
wet from living

and then coated again
going outside into the music
of the rain

People don't see me
they do not touch me, but
their dodging bawls at me:
Do you think we are pathetic?

Without expensive clothes
handmade shoes
arms full of beautiful friends
and the favours of a VIP?

Without keys to a villa
the brilliance of grand plans
and favours to hand out
Don't you call that life?

Shivering, I smile
at the boy in the Annex
who serves tea and looks back to see
if I happen to take notice of him

He reminds me
of something and somewhere
of my emptiness
and you

I came across you, didn't say hello
walked past and didn't look back
but what this seems to be, it is not

Your desires do not rhyme
with my sadness, not with your
reasons and those I do not believe

Tears are not my love
not my future, without you
an other way is not possible

To make it up there was a good fairy

She gave me her veil-cloak as a bed
as a tent, a reality
of being invisible or
making invisible, of

forgetting false kisses
for today's lips
of ever a new day
of ignoring what hurts

of never, never giving up
of spitting out the quicksand
of learning that I carry with me
what I left behind

This little piece is left
of the veil, often torn
to give half of what I had
to whom I came across

My colours are orange
with joy, pink

with compassion, and shades of brown
full of quiet contentment, but
mostly they are undefined

a mixture of hot and cold
of yesterday, today and my fantasy

about tomorrow, with undercurrents
from the sea of the people who
flush into me, flood after flood

past my rocks, over my dikes
and through my membranes

There are no steady places
to preserve and visit
my feelings, they are

bigger than me, they have no boundaries
and without a passport, they can

jump over to sharing together
I exchange them with family and friends
and let them change their colour

I think a lot about the girl
from the camp in Guantánamo
she is a flower among the flowers
a mountain in the mountains, she lives
and never has to go anywhere

There, birds are singing in the palms
a stream flows through the valley
the water shines softer than gold
and she is a white rose
in June and in January

About her, I want to write
sunbeams in the eternal forest
a sparkling song from my heart
in bright green words
and flaming red music

She is my soul, she melts
weapons with feathers and coral
water, with laurel she heals
the wounded deer, the girl
from the camp in Guantánamo

The gravedigger knew your feelings
for me, your free hero from Havana
He called me and gave the address

of the morgue where you were
I kissed you, your forehead
glowing ice-cold upon my lips

I kissed the hand on your stomach
and also your white shoes, no
I couldn't say goodbye

Oh María, you walked into the river
where you died of love
because you saw me

back in your city, married
to Carmen from Mexico, the woman
you wanted to be so badly

We bury you in silk
surround you with jasmine
and cover you with lilies

With a bowed head, Pilar is toiling
through the sand, she's been playing
along the edge, where the water is white
from foam, coming and flowing back
much further than she can see

Mama knows right away
Pilar, where are your shoes?
Tell me, where did you put them?
Here Señora, look, I got them

You know, I have a girl like her
but she is ill, she has a fever
and cold feet, we don't have money
to buy shoes, and all of a sudden
she was wearing these pink shoes!

Three women listen in
they flap out their handkerchief
when Pilar gives her hoop
her bucket with the shovel

and a kiss as a goodbye
to the sick girl
who will grow up and
will keep the pink shoes
in a glass jar

In the eyes of the child
I read what it thinks of me
what it sees or guesses, how
I can be a lioness

can be everyone's friend
in word and deed
ready every day
jumping over any ravine

to the place where I want to be
finding of itself new questions
in the eyes of that child
with which an adventure begins

How much would we like?
Much, more, or admit
with a sigh

that we know better, know
the law of cause and effect
Healthy mind, healthy body

that we do not devour beauty
and only live like spring
in the spring of our lives, growing

under oppression, winter
driven away with the zest for life
of countless many

The parties fell silent
all fuss ran away
from the cafes and the streets
And the sky turned pale

We no longer participate
as long as it is winter
and we can do without
Only the absolute necessary

we'll buy, we'll maintain nothing
that sustains the occupation
its land bite, people bite
Freedom bite

Our blood flows, our breath
makes us appear at our most beautiful
crystal after crystal
Untouched

We will die a new life
in the hearts of the soldiers
once vulnerably kiss spring
awake in them

Open and closed doors
windows shutters castles wards shops towns roads
borders. Follow your path
if you can, where possible

Open and closed gardens
skies valves taps sewers sluices vaults coffins
graves. Look and smell
where you are, where you're going

Open and closed monasteries
societies visors letters flowers looks lips eyes
ears. Listen and be blind
to what you don't need to see

Open and closed books
credits lines veins wounds chakras minds questions arms
hearts. Speak and keep silent
about what doesn't need to be said

Open and non-open
water fire kitchens pans curtain endings conversations
relationships. Be caring
for others and yourself

I'm old enough now
I'm going to do things differently
with my granddaughter
always be honest with her
not as if

she were God, who sees everything
nor Big Brother China
And no self-censorship
of cut off thoughts
or forbidden fantasies

Nor learning safe habits
that might find approval
in her eyes, but
being trustworthy
being open, myself

because even the smallest
secret has complications
and could she be too young
to learn that? And to learn
that people are not saints?

You went away, I went on
loving you and out of the blue
there you are at my door
with a sleeping mat

I look at you
You drop anchor
and want to show

all kinds of things, explaining them
with your hands and I have no idea
how this suddenly happened

I'm just glad
I was home, am home
I make soup

There is rye bread
We are hungry
Old hunger