Δεκέμβρης 1944 (17)

Κυριακή 24 Δεκεμβρίου 2023

Μπάμπης Ζαφειράτος: Ευχές για να κάνουμε τον κόσμο μας καλύτερο με το ποίημα «Είμαι εσύ» του δολοφονημένου Ρεφαάτ Αλαρίρ (23.9.1976 - 6.12.2023)

Refaat Alarir

Born in Gaza City, 23 Sep. 1979

Murdered by Jewish Nazis, Dec. 6, 2023

(Photo: https://palestinetoday.quora.com/

 

 

Translation

Babis Zafiratos - Bottle in the Wind

 

 

Refaat Alarir

I am you.

 

Two steps: one - two.

Look in the mirror:

The horror, the horror!

The butt of your M -16 on my cheekbone

The bruise he left

The sign itself is like a sphere that keeps spreading out

Like a swastika,

To crawl over my face,

An immense sadness pours out of my heart.

It's dripping thickly from my eyes.

It passes through my nostrils.

My ears, the house, the place

Overwhelming.

The same as you.

70 years ago

Years.

 

I'm just you.

I am your haunted past.

Your present and your future.

I struggle just as you struggled.

I fight like you fought.

I resist like you resisted.

And for the moment,

I would take for example

Your stubbornness,

If you didn't hold on

The barrel of your gun

Here between my eyes

Where are they bleeding now?

 

One. Two.

The weapon is identical.

The same goes for the sphere.

Who once killed your mother?

And he had killed your father.

Is it her,

Where will you throw it?

Against me.

 

Look closely at the bullet, look closely at your gun.

If you smell it, my blood has your blood too.

My present and your past.

He has my presence.

It has your future.

That's why we are all the same,

The same path of life

The same weapon

Own facial expressions engraved

In the face of the murderer,

Everything is the same.

Only in your case

The victim, in retrospect, has evolved

And he became a perpetrator.

I'm telling you.

I am you.

Only that I am not the current you.

 

I don't hate you.

I want to help you stop hating me,

Kill me.

The chirping of your machine gun

It made you deaf.

The smell of gunpowder

The smell is covered by my blood.

The sparks are distorted

My expressions.

Can you not shoot?

For a moment?

Could you?

 

All you need to do is

It's your eyes to close.

(These days seeing

our hearts are blinded).

Close your eyes, tightly.

So you can see

Through the eyes of the mind.

Then he looked in the mirror.

One. Two.

I am you.

I am your past.

And by killing me,

You're killing yourself.

 

 

Translation from the English original (see below): Babis Zafiratos, 20 Dec. 2023

 

 

And the lyrics perhaps bring to mind the lyrics of his compatriot Mahmoun Darwish (March 13, 1971 - August 9, 2008) from State of Siege (2002):

[To a murderer:] If you had looked your victim in the eyes for a moment,
you might have remembered your mother in the
gas chamber, you might have been freed from the logic of the gun,
you might have changed your mind: "Yes. This is not the way
to find out who you really are."
(Translation from English: BZ)

 

 

See also

Babis Zafiratos: The last poem of the murdered Refaat Alarir (23.9.1976 - 6.12.2023) and an Epigram for his kite — “The Barefoot Cry of Palestine”: A presentation at the Athens Palestine Film Festival (STUDIO, 17-24 Dec. 2023)

 

 

https://twitter.com/BTnewsroom/status/1733532101381587431

 

Dr. Refaat Alarer

I am You

 

Two steps: one, two.

Look in the mirror:
The horror, the horror!
The butt of your M-16 on my cheekbone
The yellow spot it left
The bullet-shaped scar expands
Like a swastika,
Crawls across my face,
The pain in my heart flows
Dripping from my eyes
From my nostrils piercing
My ears are flooding.
The place.
As it did to you
70 years ago
Or rather like that.

 

I am just you.
I am your past that haunts
Your present and future.
I try as you do.
I fight as you do.
I resist as you resisted
And for a moment,
I would take your persistence
As a model,
Wouldn't you hold?
The barrel of the gun
Between my bleeding
Eyes.

 

One. Two.

The exact same gun
The exact same bullet
That killed your mom
And killed your dad
Is being used,
Against me,
By you.

 

Mark this bullet and mark it on your gun.
If you smell it, it has your blood and mine.
It has my present and your past.
It has my gift.
It has your future.
That's why we are twins,
The same life path
The same gun
The same suffering
The same facial expressions painted
On the killer's face,
The same everything
Except that in your case
The victim has evolved, backwards,
Into an abuser.
I'm telling you.
I am you.
Except I am not your current self.

 

I don't hate you.
I want to help you stop hating
and killing me.
I tell you:
The noise of your machine gun
Renders you deaf
The smell of the powder
Beats that of my blood.
The sparks disfigure
my facial expressions.
Would you stop shooting?
For a moment?
Would you?

 

All you have to do
Is close your eyes
(Seeing these days
Blinds our hearts.)
Close your eyes, tightly
So that you can see
In your mind's eye.
Then look into the mirror.
One. Two.
I am you.
I am your past.
And killing me,
You kill you.

 

 

 

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