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By Dr. Kamal Solayemani
August 5th, 2013
Tonight in my journey
In my past,
In my memory,
In my words,
In every word, roars, in our collective cries,
I saw you
Alive, undying and eternal
As I was roaming
On the mountain top
Flying over Qandil, Pire Magroon, Sipan
I saw you,
I saw you
In Diarbakir, in Kirmashan,
In Sna, in Dersim, in Qamishlu
In every corner of my collective being,
In my collective memory,
I could only hear you
I could only hear your voice,
As you were creating,
You were in constant creation,
As you were constructing a word,
Single words, one by one,
Each word was to revive:
A beheaded innocent
A child buried alive,
A mother’s cry
Witnessing her children’s deaths
Dying under torture one by one,
They were tortured
To silence the likes of you
To stop you from creation
for voicing the cries of the muted
As you had become the voice of all
A collective voice heard as one
Yet, relates every single story,
Creating new words to articulate injustice
Deciphering what was condemned to “indecipherability”
To recount ineffable tales,
Just to empower Isaac,
To empower him speaking,
What can’t be uttered as one’s throat is cut
For the throat to resist the knife,
For the word to gush up in place of blood
Yes, you were and you are,
You were in frequent creation
The creation of words
With the slaughter of each word
You created another one,
Now I was told that you have departed
No you won’t, you can’t
You are the soul of every speech,
The embodiment of any utterance,
You’re the word,
The articulation itself,
So, you are here,
with us,
In our thought, our words and poetry
You are the rhyme,
You are here with us
As long as poetry exists.
You have physically departed,
Chosen an eternal sleep.
Yet, you are present,
As long as a word uttered,
Poetry recited.
As long as Qandil, Shaho, and Biston
Stay upright and stable.
You are the lasting mummer
On our kids’ lips.
You will stay with us
As long as we are,
As long as Kurdish is spoken