(thesyriacampaign.org)
This Syrian poem was shared many times in Arabic yesterday but everyone should read it. Some are saying it was written by someone on a boat before they drowned but we can’t verify the author. Either way, this speaks the truth. Here's an English translation:
Don’t be sad mother that they didn’t find my body, for what use could it be to you now, except for the cost of transport, the funeral and burial,
I’m sorry mother that war came to us and I had to leave like the others, although my dreams were not big like theirs,
As you know, all my dreams were the size of a box of medicine for your colon, and the cost of fixing your teeth. On that note, my teeth are now green from the colour of the moss clinging to them,
Despite that, they are still more beautiful than the dictator’s teeth,
I am sorry my dear for building you a house of illusions. A wooden cottage like the ones we saw in movies. A humble cottage far away from the barrel bombs, far away from sectarianism, ethnic loyalties and the rumours of our neighbours,
I am sorry brother that I couldn’t send you the fifty Euros that I promised you at the beginning of every month so you could have a good time ahead of your graduation,
I am sorry sister that I didn’t send you the new mobile phone that has wi-fi like the one your better-off friend has,
I am sorry my beautiful home that I will never hang my coat behind your door,
I am sorry dear divers and search and rescue workers, for I don’t know the name of the sea I drowned in,
Rest easy immigration department, for I won’t be a heavy burden on you,
Thank you dear sea for welcoming us without a visa or a passport. Thank you to the fish who will share me without asking about my religion or political beliefs,
Thank you to the news channels who will report the news of our deaths for five minutes every hour for two days,
And thank you for grieving us when you hear the news… I’m sorry I drowned.
No comments:
Post a Comment