Gaza

This is my modern English translation of a poem by the Palestinian poet Walid Khazindar. 

This Distant Light
by Walid Khazindar
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Bitterly cold,
winter clings to the naked trees.
If only you would free
the bright sparrows
from your fingertips
and unleash a smile— that shy, tentative smile—
from the imprisoned anguish I see.

Sing! Can we not sing
as if we were warm, hand-in-hand,
sheltered by shade from a sweltering sun?

I lived as best I could, and then I died.
Be careful where you step: the grave is wide.

[But before you find yourself beguiled ...
remember, I was just a Palestinian child.]

Czech translation by Václav Z J Pinkava

EPITAF PALESTINSKÉHO DECKA

Život muj živoril, do konce deje.
Pozor kam šlapeš: hrob do šíre zeje.

Turkish translation by Nurgül Yayman

Filistinli bir çocugun mezar yazisi

for the children of the Holocaust and the Palestinian Nakba

Something inescapable is lost—
lost like a pale vapor curling up into shafts of moonlight,
vanishing in a gust of wind toward an expanse of stars
immeasurable and void.

Something uncapturable is gone—
gone with the spent leaves and illuminations of autumn,
scattered into a haze with the faint rustle of parched grass
and remembrance.