The Earth is closing on us
pushing us through the last passage.

The Earth is squeezing us.

I wish the Earth was our mother
so she'd be kind to us.

I wish we were pictures on the rocks
for our dreams to carry as mirrors.

We saw the faces of those who will throw
our children out of the window of this last space.

Our star will hang up mirrors.

Where should we go after the last frontiers ?
Where should the birds fly after the last sky ?
Where should the plants sleep after the last breath of air ?

Mahmoud Darwish