Can the individual confront an exile's condition

 

by experimenting with her/his

 

own language?

_

(quotidian exile#3)

Film tip:

Barren Lives (original Portuguese title:Vidas Secas), 1963

by Nelson Pereira dos Santos.

Behind the frosty wall,
she cries
for her son taken away,
for dead men...
for food absent in captivity.

Her scrawny body pulls itself along the ground
towards the routine tasks that blend into one pain.
She leans on any corner and flinches there scratching her shaved and dirty head.

The memories, remains of some life-form, fade away
in an anguished time.
There is no one listening to the dry beats of her fist on her chest.
She seems to try to kill herself once and for all
in that camp
where there is no worthwhile life
merely, as Giorgio Agamben would say, a bare life
with which impunity can be eliminated.

(exile's thoughts#B)