It is night now. The Adriatic has
quieted down. In a hundred Rom camps, from end to end of Italy, fear
gives way for a short time to peace. For Bajram, rest means working at
night in the dark factories of Brescia. He coughs loudly and slips out
into the night on the ice on his motorcycle, but he is happy - at last,
they have called him!
Bechir is resting. He is holding an American
magazine and pretending very seriously to read it.
Xhevrija is resting: in this nighttime pause,
her children scattered around the world have come for a moment together
again. She is so taciturn, yet I saw her move her arms as if she were dancing.
Lulzim is resting, tonight he dreamed he
had been sold a permit to stay.
Altna is resting, playing with makeup and
imagining a youth she will never be allowed to live.
Reska has managed to persuade me to watch
a film on TV with the actor she has always been in love with -
Van Damme, the good, silent hero who punishes the evil ones.
I expect her to devote her full attention
to the film. But suddenly, we realize that the life we are living is far
more adventurous than any film, and that we are real people, whereas Van
Damme is purely fiction. And we stop looking at the film, while Reska and
Remzija fall asleep, hugging each other tight and stroking each other's
hair. Their bodies communicate hope, life and love in a harrowing world.
Such a fragile peace that this night grants
us all, a veil hiding us from the sight of the vulture, who flies in slow
and patient circles in the sky.
Greetings to all from Emir
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