I recently found the beautiful poem Hevi Berwari wrote for me. Zourab translated it. I read it before but now, several years later, it is even more touching. Can I really "smell the clouds over Halabja?" I certainly want to. I want every word to be true, and if it is not true of me, I want it to be true of somebody.
I do not have an email for Hevi, and we don't share a language anyway. I hope someone will tell her that she did something amazingly wonderful for me. Zourab did too. Love Lucina
 

This poem is written by Hêvî Berwarî (Berlin, 01.12.2003) and dedicated to our friend Lucina Kathmann.


To Lucina Kathmann

translated by Dr. Zorab Aloian

 

The boat with me

was in the whale's abdomen

moving towards the death;

And the lost skylines

started to fight 

the Sun.

I tried to escape from those being alive

in the graveyards

I disappeared

within the disappearance,

I was looking for

the age in which the world is,

being forced to give up, I was still looking

for the eyes that contemplate like me,

for the ears that hear like me,

for the feelings that are awake and dynamic

just like myself,

for the heart that could give me a place

at least as much as a hair needs.

The long and guilty years together with

the murderous days

cut off us

by the oceans,

by the countries.

Then from a distance

I saw - but it was far away 

a dove with a heart

bigger

than the size of her homeland,

created by the consciousness of tears

which from distance could smell the clouds

over Halabja

and the silence of the Anfal.

She was far away from the refugees of the Makhmur camp

and the case of Leyla Zana.

Yet she possessed a heart

bigger

than Mexico

that enabled her to embrace our pains.

Since then Lucina is a saint to me

towering above the pyramids of her country.

 

 

 

 

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