Gedicht aus dem Exil
vom außenlicht verfolgt
laufen sie in scharen
unablässig nach norden
zum weißgewaschenen kontinent
im schatten der bestandsliste
warten sie geduldig ohne schrift ohne papier
bis die zähmung sie erfaßt
The worst thing for me is not that we get beaten by the police, but that they treat us like animals. When they arrest us, when they have to touch us or our belongings, they wear plastic gloves. After using them on us they through them into the garbage bin.
We go to the toilette and they arrest us. We go to the beach to wash ourselves or our clothes and they arrest us. We go the pharmacy and they arrest us. We go to the hospital and they arrest us. We go to a phone cell to call our family and they arrest us.
Today I went to LIDL to buy food, when suddenly two officers caught me. One of them was holding me while the other was beating my head and my body. Close to us some Greek people were standing and watching, but nobody said anything. Finally I could escape.
We live in construction sites, on the street, in provisory nylon shelters in the middle of the jungle, in and under old trains and everywhere. We wait to see what will happen with us. If the police will come and arrest us. If they will deport or only beat some of us. The ones of us who are here now, we have no other choice. That’s how it is. This is our life.
Step by step our problems rose and grew to become a huge wall separating us from you.