Now we could have been a child thereabouts
For example, in Jerusalem,
Could have thrown a stone to the wailing wall,
Could have made a mother cry,
Shot in the middle of the heart with a bullet,
Having played blind man’s buff with the tanks
Could have been tagged with the guns there,
Could have been a child in Jerusalem,
Could have been an angel in Al- Aqsa Mosque.
Now we could have been a child thereabouts;
For example, in Kandahar,
Could have explained why he cannot fly a kite,
To his leg,
Interchanged with a mine,
Could have polished shoes for one coca cola
Could have been a child in Kandahar,
Could have been an angel in Afghan Mountains.
Now we could have been a child thereabouts;
For example, in Grozny
Could have woken up with the voices of bomb;
Could have been written as orphan at birth,
To the identity card,
Every morning, in the school garden, as lining up,
Could have slept in the hollows without gravestone,
Could have been a child in Grozny,
Could have been an angel near the grave of Imam Shamil.
Now we could have been a child thereabouts;
For example, in East Timor,
Could have carried tears in slanting eyes,
Could have been a cavy in nuclear tests
Could have been deprived of a sibling
Could have been a child in East Timor
Could have been an angel dancing in Great Wall of China.
Now we could have been a child thereabouts
For example, in my motherland,
Could have died away,
In the lap of a mother boiling a stone,
Longing for hot soup,
Could have been a child in my motherland,
Could have been a child, Nene Hatun has left coverless.
For example, in Akhaltsikhe…
In Baghdad… in Qırım…in Turkistan…In Mora…In Kashmir..In Tashkent…
In Halabja…In Hama…In Skopje…In Kabul…In Sarajevo…In Sudan…
Now we could have been a child thereabouts
Could have leapt to the fire as Abraham,
To the sea, as Yunus,
To the saw, as Zechariah.
To the longing, as Jacob,
To the well, as Yunus.
Now we could have been a child thereabouts
Could have been crucified as Jesus Christ
Could have been stoned as Muhammad in Ta’if
Could have slept in the bed of the Beloved as Ali
Could have been cut up in Karbala,
Now we could have been a child thereabouts
Could have been Metin, Deniz, Che, Rachel
Could have been love, in a sense
Could have been a song, in a sense
Could have been an angel, in a sense,
Could have gone to the heaven earlier then everyone.
Now we could have been a child thereabouts
Could have written as if dying here now.
*
Adem Özbay
translated by: Zehra Ulucak
2013
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