"O Eritrea I'd fill the horn"

O Eritrea I'd fill the horn

New signs to banish those spells that gore fate

I'd punch the horn full of fraternal notes

a harmony to deplete the archaic songs

They are always of discord

powdery rhythmics in which verse and chorus

toss life into the pasture

into the ground into the sand

Only the sea can erase our boot prints in the clay

or destroy the sandcastle

Already determined by blood

the earth has eaten its children

The sea does not tell me

what is has done

stretching its tongue

just a few lengths from Lampedusa