The people sing through crowded throats
Throwing their voices about the clouds
Where Angels with eyes of black
Reign apocalypse on the ground
Who is liberty
Where is she now?
She is not in this concrete land
She is not in these concrete hearts
Her voice is the crimson-cut sea
It is magnified and diminished
In righteous feather-kisses
And it speaks not for brains but for all the well-wishes;
I ask for nothing
But the eyes of death
If it will let freedom ring !
This is the end time
Tell me, Miss Liberty,
If you rip off your ears,
Can you hear the people sing?
“An Ode to Miss Liberty”
Jo gharon ko chhod ke hain chale, unhein kya darayenge faasle?
People who leave their homes aren’t afraid of the distance.
Snowstorms, avalanches. Oh the beauty of mountains top it all. Yet how nice it’s to finally be able to get warm and rest.
New mountain refugee in Gadzhina, Ukraine. It’s a second one on all Ukrainian part of Carpathian range like this, with electricity. This one even has hot water. How cool is that!
TR: “Ve dünyanın neresine gidersek gidelim çocuk her yerde çocuktur”
DE: “Egal wo wir auf der Welt hin gehen, ein Kind ist und bleibt immer ein Kind.”