In March, the Kurds were in the tranquility of the impossible
Dresses of Spring,
Faces of Spring, But the singer was dead.
The clouds that descended like black mustard in the lungs,
The clouds that tied the knot of death around the lovely morning,
The clouds that curdled the devil's bread in the pupil of the sunset,
Do you think they will pass through the thicket of cypress
And touch the date palms?
In March, the Kurds were in the tranquility of the impossible
Translated from the Arabic by Mohammed B. Alwan
March 1998 marks the 10th anniversary of the Halabja massacre, when Saddam Hussein's forces used chemical weapons against the inhabitants of this Kurdish village. -The Editors
This poem appeared in Al Jadid, Vol. 4, No. 22 (Winter 1998).
Copyright (c) 1998 by Al Jadid