I sit on the stone,
Fatigued, my heart exhausted.
What matters to me in this land
Where there isn’t the echo of the call of my country?
What does life matter to me?
I want to see where you are, Mother,
I want to see the flowered cross,
And the grave where you sleep in silent marble.
But the jealous tomb
Tells me nothing,
And the swollen grass
Devours forever our last connection.
The night rises serene
And the earth falls asleep.
A distant star
Exhausts its light on the sleep of the dead.
16
LEAVING ALEPPO
17