Epitaph for a Palestinian Child
by Michael R. Burch
I lived as best I could, and then I died.
Be careful where you step: the grave is wide.
"Epitaph for a Palestinian Child" has also been published as "Epitaph for a Child of Gaza" and "Epitaph for a Refugee Child."
......
He might return and if he appears blue I might
allow him on top and if he returns with the sun
I will let summer multiply on my body
and if he returns for the phrases in Gallego
I will make him say them in Arabic
What we like most is what doesn't belong to us
like the field of stars and the Holy Door
like the coins lost on rooftops and the letters in Celtic
like the seascapes the wide rivers wild coastlines
......
My heart like a desert dims dry,
Streams of tears fill my eyes.
For my pains and sufferings still I cry...
What use is endurance but why.
My life is done, my thread is run.
Ages of lachrymose I have lived under the sun .
What future there is to long ahead
When you know that you are already dead?
......
Clouds spout upon her
Their waters amain
In ruthless disdain, -
Her who but lately
Had shivered with pain
As at touch of dishonour
If there had lit on her
So coldly, so straightly
Such arrows of rain:
......
When thunder calls
It wakes the dead
From out their tomb,
From out their bed.
When thunder calls
It wakes the dead-
And you best hasten on.
When earthquakes roll
The graves release
......
When thunder calls
It wakes the dead
From out their tomb,
From out their bed.
When thunder calls
It wakes the dead-
And you best hasten on.
When earthquakes roll
The graves release
......
Epitaph for a Palestinian Child
by Michael R. Burch
I lived as best I could, and then I died.
Be careful where you step: the grave is wide.
"Epitaph for a Palestinian Child" has also been published as "Epitaph for a Child of Gaza" and "Epitaph for a Refugee Child."
......
Life is like beautiful flower, manure it until it's petals fall.
Continue reading
чорним обрусом застелено клаптик землі
квіти на ньому
свічки
і вінки геть по пояс
сили стояти немає
......
Humka
Izrašće iz mene dub
Primiće se iz očnjega vida
I krenuti krošnjom put naviše
Nadvisiće humku i napraviti hlad
Sunčevih zraka snop kroz oblak i krošnju propašće nadamnom
I prosuti se po vlažnoj mahovini
Biću tu a neće me biti
U sjećanju ponekad pomenuće da sam bio nekad
......