To a Palestinian Child

blood flows where life should be ………………………… to a Palestinian child

your cry rises
as pallets tread upon your dreams
what spreads is the scent of poison
not pine
you startle at the sound of aircraft
how many nights now
blood has settled in your eyes
it is smoke
dust that veils the sky
a cloud of death
not abundance
sleep, my baby, sleep
lullaby

the world is vast
the market is small
democracy is a trade for cash
perhaps George Bush observes a minute of silence in Washington
for centuries the same game
the same shame
this is civilisation
where is the Tsar
where is Rome
where is the Sultan
sleep, my baby, sleep
lullaby

child
child, do not look that way—spit
you need a grandmother
to greet the stars with a fleeting smile
what a tableau of savagery is death
so chilling in its extremity
we fall silent
how strange
we fall silent, yet
another silence grows
our shame within silence

Caucasus
Palestine
Bosnia
sleep, my baby, sleep
lullaby

Şahin SAYILGAN / Ankara

(This poem was published in the journal Kafdağı during the Abkhazia war. It may be incomplete or contain errors. Its inspiration is, above all, the Palestinian child who could not escape the sniper’s bullet despite his father’s attempt to shield him, and, more broadly, all children killed in war.) Written on the day that child was shot, in the 1980s.)