If it rains
my friends will be stuck at home
in the old shoes
of their dead
The gate of the city is closed
column by column
the obsolescence of the city
breaks in their mouth


We have hidden
our own dead
in the cellar
waiting for the revenge day
under boxes of gunpoweder
under the old ancestral rage

If the rains come the day of revenge will be postponed again

Rain is a crime
which will fade the hopes of the people
If rain falls
it will clean my blood
from the streets

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