Something is written here – the prayer, or the good-luck formula? Or may be the curse against guards, let they never drop on this boat, on which boardside this sign is painted. Small shell, not a ferry, to carry crowds across the blue Mediterranean to the land of hope, far from war. What are those countless boats bringing us? The good luck or the curse? Or art – like this fish, painted so simply on the boat of immigrants to Europe.
For me the fish says simply: I will survive.