Amidst the concrete towers
hurriedly

a camp of tents grew up
where bag
after
black bag was brought in.

Behind the zips lay
molars or a trunk
splintered bone or
scraps mostly
of other tissues.

A wind of ash raged there
which risen out of searing hell
swirled slow round iron beams
and over chunks hills of rubble
where rescue teams and high
tower cranes dead
nervous maggots were only
brightly coloured ants.

The unparalleled work
I saw
by those my
fellow men - deeply

disturbed heroes who
push the hand of nature
aside

and just keep
on going.

Translation: 2010, Gregory Ball