When all the people of the world
-black, white, yellow –
and tear down all borders,
and, united, build the future
that they will offer their children.
When all children can play in the streets-
carefree, innocent, untroubled,
-that is peace.
When their innocence
is acknowledged and defended
as the most prized possession
-instead of being cruelly punished –
then yes, there is peace.
Just as when people act beyond their personal interest
and see that it is in the greater interest
to stand together.
But look, these two children
kept fighting all day long,
bathed in the beauty of the sunset,
that hides something eternal and mysterious,
they have understood that there is no point in fighting.
And with the soft spring breeze
they have fallen asleep
in each other’s arms.
That is peace.
Listen – millions of people are talking,
each with their own unique story to tell.
And you have to listen, because yes!
The first time you looked at someone with disdain,
ignored them, passed them by uncaringly,
because life hasn’t been kind to them,
because you didn’t see anything worthwhile,
or simply because they don’t look like you,
that is when the first division occurred,
and war follows soon enough.
I know, there are times
when everything gets tested.
But when, within the smoke,
down in the mouldy basement,
that used to be a storeroom for fresh fruit,
that children used to steal,
but now serves as a shelter
from the bombings,
among the banging and the sobbing
a woman offers her own milk
to a baby
of the other faction
– she found it on her doorstep, wounded.
It had been crying with all its might,
its face full of complaint,
just like the woman’s.
Oh, is it possible that it’s the baby’s fault,
is it? –
Then peace has not been lost.
Hidden among the weapons and the blood
in order to test humanity
this child – and a million other children –
who, with their strong hands
and the flame of youth,
will restore peace
and distribute it equally
throughout the world.
That’s how it always is
in the end.