Twenty years ago:
under the moon and the stars
there was talk of memories
of the ancestors around
of a campfire with smell
of sea foam.
Magic moments
where heaven marries the sea
On the ocher horizon.
Burning wood
Allow the adventures of ancestors.

In the present:
under a concrete roof
despair arises
in the few people
With the leather stuck to the bones.
Every day is a day of survival.
A town is kidnapped in their homes,
The crime is the owner of the streets.
We feel alone, alone from dawn to dusk

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