AfghanistanElyas BalkhiPoems

For the children of my homeland

Elyas Balkhi

Mazar-e-Sharif, Afghanistan

 

Early in the morning,
I go to school.
Children play in the park, they have teachers.
They all look happy.
One of them
Looks me in the eye.
He is not afraid
Of ever being hit by a bomb.
He has never seen blood,
Never seen a dead body.
Tears wet my cheeks.
And I murmur, very quietly:
That is what I wish
For the children of my homeland, too.

 

Elyas Balkhi (18)

His flight from Iran lasted almost three months; by car and partly on foot, his route first took him through Turkey, then by boat to Greece, and finally by train and on foot again to Berlin, where he has now lived for three years.