Saturday, 12 June 2010

I come and stand by every door by Nazim Hikmet‏

I come and stand at every door
but none can hear my silent tread.
I knock and yet remain unseen
for I am dead, for I am dead.

I'm only seven tho' I died
in Hiroshima long ago.
I'm seven now as I was then
when children die they do not grow.

My hair was scorched by swirling flame,
my eyes grew dim, my eyes grew blind.
Death came and turned my bones to dust,
and that was scattered by the wind.

I need no fruit, I need no rice,
I need no sweets or even bread.
I ask for nothing for myself,
for I am dead, for I am dead.

All that I ask is that for peace
you fight today, you fight today,
so that the children of the world
may live and grow and laugh and play.

http://www.nazimhikmetran.com/index.html