A keresés eredménye

In memory

Lokvica, 30th September 1916
 
His name was
Moammed Sceab
 
Descendant
of emirs of nomads
committed suicide
because he no longer had
a Homeland
He loved France
and changed his name
 
He became Marcel
but wasn't French
and he could no longer
live
in the bell tent of his folk
where they listened to the chanting
of the Koran
enjoying a cup of coffee
 
And he couldn't
release
the song
of his loneliness1
 
I walked with him2
together with the owner of the hotel
in which we lived
in Paris
to number 5 of Rue de Carmes
a withered downhill alley.
 
He rests
in the cemetery of Ivry
a suburb which seems
always
in a day
of a
decomposed fair
 
And maybe I am the only one
who still knows
he lived
 

• 1. Meaning: unlike Ungaretti (who felt stateless too), Moammed couldn't ease his pain with poetry
• 2. Moammed's last journey, i.e. his funeral

“Avoir une autre langue c'est posséder une deuxième âme.”
“To have another language is to possess a second soul.”
- Charlemagne ❤

Soldiers

It feels like
in autumn
on the trees
leaves.
 

Brothers

What's your regiment
brothers?
 
Quivering word
in the night.
 
Newborn leaf.
 
In the racked air
unintentional uprising
of the man who presides at his
frailty.
 
Brothers.
 

The wanderer

There’s not
a single place
upon this earth
that I can
call my home
 
In every
new
clime
I find myself
I feel
wistful
as soon
as I’ve grown
accustomed to it
 
And I always leave
A stranger
 
Reborn
through ages
too long lived
 
To enjoy
but a single instant
of primal life
 
I seek an innocent
Land
 
Campo di Mailly, May 1918
 
Thanks a lot for your attention!

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Morning

I enlighten
with immensity.