i think about what you wrote and sang back then
in a scene of a film a sight familiar
friends around the table, bottles slowly emptied
talking about injustice
talking about death

slowly i wondered too
as the warplanes shunned
the songs of winds
who will sing when everyone is sleeping

and in tired wake, i thought of dreams
of all the aches of rest

perhaps
the first to sing will be the first to wake
shouting from all the painful nightmares
and the people shall wake up
bit by bit
in peace,
or all at once
in anger

to the sound of music...