Sans paroles /只是在murmur

Enes Beydilli 图片: https://www.pexels.com/zh-cn/photo/22845596/

In Europe you easily lose your personage, for an equal amount of viewing A "Schein" place of it Me, as a foreigner Never seem to be my own foreigner enough

While in foreign countries you yourself become foreign

A volumne easily ignored

Preoccupied by so many viewings You are foreign to them in two aspects

At least

Soaking in foreigness You become foreign everywhere so that English became a warm gas oil lamp You use it to light up your way ahead They smell it

The oil gas lamp The integration tries to separate lands

As a joint no more So the island people become foreign to one another No archipelagos built High goal of all initiation Illusion spill out Broken hemisphere all integration calls for equality's sake. My body stays awake, although it keeps calling for unnameable yearning of return

Return to where? My cells rebel to get rebirth every night, regardless of place exchange.

Me to them

Altogether a bird singing in a wrong cage

Refuse to be

Wired

Be settled

On a certain string

Strings of memories

Attached as archipelagos

Whenever we do not share the same ideologies

That's no Problem

Then we just build another one

And in that dream

That spaceship without censorship

All earth is forgotten and

United as one

When one morning you wake up

You are walking about

Talking like overheated porridge (Herum heißen Brei)

You to them

all birds flocked together

Nothing different from those

flying over from the US continent

It is the afghan the Iran the island behind

Waters

Crossing them Thousands of boundaries

Lanes

Waves

Nights

Dreams without censorship

A new Manchuria

Waste land for nothing

Came ashore

Vonlontariant

Un enfant sans gare

But how can they tune a melody to suite to their likings

No truth for your identity

If your birthplace carries no license

They cannot invent a cultural censorship for you

Beyond imagination and far beyond any truth The world has ever known

They can't help

Just like tired men do

They put you and your identity into a dark china jar

Giving it a tag

Exhibit

We all do

We all invent a truth for all foreigners

Like we knew it all better

All the way up

From the beginning

Open up the cage

Or

Corsage

The bird has flown