Notebook of Struggle
If you’re seduced by a notebook of struggle, then you
Speak too
If the notebook pays for
The day when the
Ones defeated in struggle left with dark faces that
Smiled in relief,
Their dedication in a brief moment rewarded with sad estrangement, then you
Get paid too
While you couldn’t do anything
For those who were truly hungry
Your grudge for being chased
To the streets by the scheme of suspicious fighters
If the struggle is a notebook of struggle, then you
Be silent
Because bravery was always hard and resembled a groan
Until spring circulates to
Your lonely encampment
Once
During spring which came many times, you
Lost the heart of girl who
Tried weighing an irreducibly happy love on a small scale
You lost
A fighter who had fused in all his strength
Like a clock that correctly marks
The steps
In your soul towards the future
Although you were a fighter of disobedience
Now on your right hand a European dictionary
The exploding soul is not hidden
Now on the left hand the loneliness of a dark Japan
Tomorrow’s climate and today’s provisions and
The seeds of nameless disputes are
Pushed in
Although you’re a comrade of disobedience
You open the canon fire of the soul
Against fighters who have survived and got caught up with peace
You
Hate obedience, put up an opposition, isolate yourself
Spitting against the fearful faces
Of people who are scared on their own by the day of victory
Not kind words but
Blood red invectives like ingot iron, you too
Will become old and fade
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