Outside the barracks
Folk are waiting apprehensively
As if at the hour of the trumpet.
The war is over
The survivors are coming back,
At a distance, the military lorries are in sight
Guns are heaved up lengthwise
Above the soldiers' heads
As if floating up to their necks
These are the remnants of the still-alive-and-kicking
Shoulders are without epaulettes,
Uniforms without buttons,
Their arms are just like oars in a dry river
Plying from one arid wave to another
Crying Noah, Noah, Noah
Remnants of those still-alive-and-kicking.
In an assembly like this
There is no grieving for lost limbs,
Any strap of a person is enough
The important thing is still to be alive,
Lost limbs are of no concern.

Every soldier on the coming lorries
Is counted as alive and dead - both at once
Alive and dead both at once
Uncertainty and certainty
Life and death
Are interwoven now
In a moment, the truth will be made plain,
The dead will be dead forever,
And the living will be in part alive.
Critical moments are, no doubt, shattering
They can save, or otherwise kill, in an instant
Like a flash of lightning, unawares it catches you
Like a flood, it does not give you time
To collect your belongings
Or put on your clothes half decently.
In such a gathering
Joy and grief soon will be two separate things
And selfishness will show itself
As the most powerful element in man's nature.

She is like a stricken boat
A woman searching for her son
Is like a stricken boat.
Inches away, an embrace
So strong that
There will be no dividing them.
Feasts and obsequies
Are two neighbouring trees
Their fingers are interlacing now
But how different they are.