The music that I once thought could be heard to calm down, the quietest of all my recordings, cannot be heard if there are bombings and screams around. It is music for those who look from the outside. Music for me and for you.
Eduardo Galeano once said: “Yo escribo para quienes no pueden leerme. Los de abajo, los que esperan desde hace siglos en la cola de la historia, no saben leer o no tienen con qué.”
I dedicate this music to all the Palestinian people and to those who cannot speak about it.
As you prepare your breakfast, think of others
(do not forget the pigeon’s food).
As you conduct your wars, think of others
(do not forget those who seek peace).
As you pay your water bill, think of others
(those who are nursed by clouds).
As you return home, to your home, think of others
(do not forget the people of the camps).
As you sleep and count the stars, think of others
(those who have nowhere to sleep).
As you liberate yourself in metaphor, think of others
(those who have lost the right to speak).
As you think of others far away, think of yourself
(say: “If only I were a candle in the dark”).
“Think of Others” by Mahmoud Darwish