“Do Not Divide the Sardinians”
Do not take them—
those island sons,
those daughters of stone
and salt and silence.
The Sardinians
do not cry out for empire,
nor drape themselves
in foreign names.
They listen to the wind,
they plant in rock,
they keep their dead close
and their stories closer.
So why do you come,
Spaniard,
with your coins and your claims,
saying:
“They are like the Jews.”
“They belong to us, too.”
You stretch the lines of kinship
until they snap.
You throw history
like a fishing net
into waters
that never called you.
You break what was still,
you twist what was whole,
you interfere
where silence was sacred.
And what of the Jews?
Let them stand
as they are —
a people of exile,
a people of flame,
but not a compass
for your wandering claims.
Let the Sardinians
keep their earth-colored quiet.
Let them belong
to no one
but themselves.
Not to Rome.
Not to Jerusalem.
And not to Madrid.