The Refugee Camp
- Deep from the Soul -
K. Radhakumar *
God!
Here is no God;
He is as good as dead.
Father!
His whereabouts is not known;
Last seen
Going with a band of volunteers
To protect the fleeing tribes
Of the green forest by the lake.
Mother!
Raped and butchered
In a temple porch
Before the very eyes of her son.
The temple
With the occupant, if any
Stands paralyzed with amusement.
Some past.
No future.
Music!
Cries of pain, hunger and loss
And longing for hearth and home.
Nothing moves the child to tears
Not even the half burnt corpses
Or stinking corpses starting to go rotten.
A couple of bites of the bread
A drink of water
International Peace Keeping Force
The child has grown
Since the last time I saw him
Before the beginning of the genocide.
Some sleep.
It is hot
Very, very hot
And the child is walking through fire.
The evening sun has woken him
From his dream
Of walking through fire
On a hot, hot day.
If only this life could be a dream!
The evening sun has grown mellower
And the child watches the sun setting.
* Poem written by K. Radhakumar which was published at Hueiyen Lanpao (English Edition)
This poem was webcasted on June 11, 2014.
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