Il nous faut regarder

Behind the dirt.
Spreading out before us
Behind squinting eyes
And soft, tired faces
Beyond these hands
Open or closed
Reaching out in vain
Or fists raised high
Further than the borders
That are made of barbed wire
Further than the misery
We need to look

We need to look
At what’s beautiful
The gray or blue sky
The girls by the water
The friend we know is true
The sun of tomorrow
The flight of a swallow
The boat that’s coming back
The friend we know is true
The sun of tomorrow
The flight of a swallow
The boat that’s coming back

Beyond the concert
Of sobs and tears
And cries of anger
From men who are scared
Beyond the racket
Of streets and construction sites
The wailing sirens
The curses of the workers
Louder than the children
Who tell of wars
And louder than the grown-ups
Who made us fight them

We need to listen
To the bird in the woods
The whisper of summer
The blood rising within
The lullabies of mothers
The prayers of children
And the sound of the earth
Gently falling asleep.
The lullabies of mothers
The prayers of children
And the sound of the earth
Gently falling asleep.