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A Lament for Afghanistan

Paghman, Afghanistan

I Do Not Believe

My beloved if Death be here for you Let it be in tuberculosis’ form Or the form of bitter cold, Not as prey of suicide bombing.

You should have the time To review your memories, To review the particulars of your body,

To make plans for your departure. Not to depart the house on your feet And we only find your shoes in the bazaar. Not to ever find your hands or your smile. Never to locate your eyes.

With my own eyes I ought to Witness your death, your final breath. My fingers should touch your eyelids to close. Otherwise, no one will believe it, forever I myself will not believe it.


Image credit: Sohaib Ghyasi



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