Let’s cut the rope and forfeit our mother tongue

Let’s cut the rope wrapped around our throats 

Forfeit our mother tongue 

Create a new language 

A language only audible at night 

A language that only the body speaks 

A language of green silk dresses 

Of fireflies whispering and playing

In thorny bushes next to the ocean

Which you will speak at dawn in the forests of Iceland

And I’ll hear 

Before sunset on the beaches of Cuba

We sing together with our limbs 

Loose tea leaves floating in boiling water

A lullaby echoing in the universe 

And before the sun rises

Let’s use this language to weave a net 

With shooting stars as our threads 

To capture, although in vain 

Our fleeting desires