From which corner of which cemetery of history do you come
that you still
hide your flimsy grandeur
behind the shadow of darkness
?wrapped in the mummified ages
!Tear off your veil
I recognize you, it seems
face to face with all the blood-red moments that
from ancient times
have grown accustomed
to madness and blood
I’ve seen your image
time and again
beside the bare bodies of Lorca, Guevara
in the fevered days of Rhodesia
the narrow alleys of Tel Zaatar
Qadisiyyah, Dachau
and even Srebrenica
Your hands
reek of mustard and pepper
and the frail bodies of the children of Halabja
have peacefully fallen asleep
in the gray embrace of Auschwitz
The stone fragments of Buddha's coffin
still circle on the mourners’ shoulders in Bamiyan
and your poisonous grin
spreads the rotten breath of the devil
to defile the naked body of the earth
From which corner of which cemetery of history do you come
that with your cursed name
I shall never
?make peace
Arsalan - Tehran
June 29, 2014
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