In tribute to you, human beings who are shipwrecked, drowned or rescued... In times past from Procida or Naples, today from Libya, Syria and even further afield. In tribute to the Mediterranean, to these female orphans who will never know where they came from, to the male orphans who will remain foreigners wherever they are washed ashore. To this mother in the middle, shedding her last salty tears into the middle sea. In tribute to her mourning, the only mourning which has no name. To the migrants and seafarers who rescue and welcome them. To those who care for them and comfort them. In tribute to those few who have not forgotten what is right and who resist. To the drifting bodies, strange driftwood which cannot be picked up, to the bodies devoid of life, only animated by scavenging appetites but much less than the reflection of a dead star on a wave. To the migrants, to the thoughts which haunt their crossing, to the endless hours, to their fear, to the cold of the night, to the thirst, to the heat of the day, to the salt which burns deep into their bodies. To these areas, void of hope, which they leave behind, to the shores which chase them away, to the coasts which reject them. To the child whom we believed was asleep somewhere between the sea and the sand. To History, which is bound to be harsh with us. For our closed eyes, for our recurring shame under the guise of empathy. We who will continue to feel these dissonant emotions for a long time. As if to avoid admitting it. As if to instil it in our children’s brains. As if to make sure that they be more forgiving than this calm water. To the Mediterranean, to the women and men who cross it without knowing any better than we do if it is "more humiliating to be" a migrant than an immigrant. To the too many stranded, dead people with no name but finally emigrated, to those who give them a name and greet them without hope of response. To the shipwrecked human beings, the stranded human beings, but above all to those of whom we will never know the number or the name, swept into the middle of the middle sea by our silence. To the seaside tourists, to the children who still laugh despite this icy heat.#migrants