Your sweet lips brought forth sweet melody
You spoke beautiful words devoid of melancholy
Your small hands held mine in prayers
Prayers for our brothers, fathers and mothers.
Your straight legs shone brightly
After our wash by the river that night.
Love, you are gone with the wind
With the wind, with the waters.
To many who do not have you in mind,
You have become an object of history
To them, you are dead.
But not to us.
Tears will flow like rivers
Fathers will shed tears like mothers.
We will look for souvenirs, for objects
But there will be nothing left of your being.
There will be no body to bury
Because you are already buried
Below buildings, amidst rubbles.
You are already gone from earth
But you remain forever – in our heart.