Exodos

On a street corner
a sign read like this:
"The last one out, turn off the light,
so no one can see where
the city we speak of is."
Among the ruins
an old man stays there;
with his great pain, no more tears,
because he has already cried
in his drowned heart.
"I can't leave from here,"
he told us, "my feet are
weary and, besides,
this land is our land, look at it.
The cherry tree I planted with my hands
and in a month, or two, it will bloom;
as a sign of hope it will flourish."
And, as I follow the path of a thousand footprints,
my heart tightens because
I can't see how so many friends, so many witnesses
are leaving.
Even the birds, when dawn breaks,
taking flight will migrate;
far from this bad luck,
from this winter, from this death
that another cold will bring us.
Like all things leave,
the beautiful wives, how they will leave...
to where, who will know?,
what paths will they walk? before being able to stop.
And on the wall
is written what says like this:
"The last one out, turn off the light
and never look back;
walk until you find
another time, another hope
for humanity"
On a street corner.