Josefa tells us: "All of us, migrants"
From our birth to our death
We become migrants, we are migrants,
And even before, and even after…
Before joining this world,
Before participating in its History,
I am already a migrant
From my conception to my mother’s womb.
And when my birth occurs
Then my founding migration happens
I come alive, I am a human being
To stay or to come and go.
From arrivals to departures, my life
Is coloured, joyously or painfully,
Of residences or exiles
Of actions or contemplations, I am.
Freedom and responsibility,
Resistance and submission
Accompany my steps, my actions, my perceptions
My life is migration.
Giving life or welcoming it,
From hospitality to refusal of hospitality,
Is to build my migration beyond myself
From generation to generation.
At the end, at the ultimate Moment
My breath slips through the door
In an eternal migration
Towards a mysterious future.
Peace, lights, wars, darkness,
For a Moment and always
My migration, personal, unique,
Takes part in our own migrations.
