How many deaths will we die
when we have no reason to surrender to terror,
how many window shelves of heaven
will we search for our souls to rest
when in the length of our existence
when in the breath of our lungs
we have harmed no one, not even a bee;
a beehive holds itself against all trespassers
while here we, as humans have no protection
when these silent suicide bombers blasts and devastate
our dreams, our lives, our world from peace;
had I to harm even an ant, I would expect this
had I to walk over a blade of grass or a snake
I could expect retribution or vengeance
but I had to turn into a vapor of blood
when no enemies I had, no wars I had fought;
and as I died that night, I remembered my mother,
my father, my children who will cry
when they don't see me at home.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem