The earth is not yours, not mine —
it is the breathing body of all.
The stars are not strangers,
they burn in our blood,
they echo in our thoughts.
To wound another
is to wound the sky,
to heal another
is to heal the whole.
We are not many, we are one life,
one dream dreaming itself
in a thousand forms.
And when we awaken,
the walls will vanish,
and we will remember:
No border holds us,
no wall divides the breath —
the air of your lungs
is the same wind that moves the oceans,
the same whisper that stirs
the heart of a stranger.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem