Montreal Letters

Kemal Sayar

Four

Sadeq, engaged with Sarah, and myself with departures
We all break into that cool darkness
America: Land of the happy and home of the free!
Can we give you some of our grief and sorrow,
Some of the things that days preserved for us?

May I give you some, for instance,
Of those nights I have wept
In the hospital before my son
While running through the streets like a lunatic
His purpled body leaned upon my heart
May I give you some from that anguish born inside
At a moment one may directly speak to God?

Oh Afghan sultans, Oh Iraqi shahzadahs
Those children killed by your bombs
As they are leaned upon our chests
We lose our minds more with each bombs dropped
We had plans to decorate them with lose robes, nay with blood,
They were all prepared to be Laylas
And Majnuns in the sahara of love
Packed with a dream thousand year old
And an incurable nostalgia in their souls.

We had plans to raise them in unequaled gardens,
Nay with blood,
But with garments from the sky,
Scarves, lose robes, and rainbows,
Sahara youth, such suited with life.
How many children should we bury more under the earth?
For you to conceive this,
America: Land of the happy and home of the free!

Translated by: Samet Kose