and speechless I shout my helplessness.
The door of the underworld opened
and the riders of the Apocalypse
hastened through the coast of my motherland.
The “Pachamama” shook.
While desolation wildly trampled over the Earth,
death arrived under the veil of night.
Now the wind carries the cries of a whole nation,
while the days nurse insecurity and hunger,
under the indifferent glance of the sky.
Maria Fischinger @ Bled, 2007