We walk & talk—as
Wars behind us Howl—
A Homeland of sponge
That passing wars wring.
Will the Land succeed—
Or will the jets?
What Time is it?
What Death is it?
If the war knocks—
Say: “He’s taking a Rest.”
The god of war spots me
Lifeless in war’s meanness.
No survivor comes to tell us
Of the Death of Others.
My bones are frail—
My Songs Grind Stone—
A Memory of Lineage … the
Earth Chants in our Bodies!
Lines from Ghassan Zaqtan, The Silence that Remains tr. Fady Joudah