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HIS BLOOD SOAKED A SOIL NOT HIS

In Memory 2

In the shadow of foreign groves, his body was chopped;
his image was lost amidst the smoke of an alien war.
Farewell, my friend

In a struggle he wasn’t born to fight, his beauty was destroyed;
his eyes were blinded by visions he wasn’t meant to see.
Farewell, my brother

Over burning fields and darkening dunes, his spirit was hovered;
his soul towards different worlds ascended.
Farewell, my son

Not violent he was, nor was he consumed by vengeance or hate.
He was just a boy.
His blood soaked a soil not his.

–Hillel F. Damron

 

The poem was published in the literary supplement edition of the Israeli newspaper “On Guard,” after the Lebanon War of 1982. Translated by the author.

* Picture from jamesisrael.blogspot

** “Leave a comment” link is the last tag below, in blue.

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