As the world is pondering the implications of Osama bin Laden’s killing in Pakistan (and I feel very uneasy about it, wishing that he could have been put on trial instead), I was reminded of the poem Iranian poet Majid Naficy (who now lives in Los Angeles) wrote on 9/11. Here it is:
New York
by Majid Naficy
Today
New York bent down
And cried
In the Atlantic waters
She sustained a wound
To her spine
Then she remembered
The old wounds of her kids
From the Netherlands and Ireland
From black Africa
From Poland and the Ukraine
And the oases of the Holy Land
No! She will rise again
And let the sun
Shine on her face
And her children
Will hold hands
And come back to dance
Around her whirling skirt
September 11, 2001
by Majid Naficy
Today
New York bent down
And cried
In the Atlantic waters
She sustained a wound
To her spine
Then she remembered
The old wounds of her kids
From the Netherlands and Ireland
From black Africa
From Poland and the Ukraine
And the oases of the Holy Land
No! She will rise again
And let the sun
Shine on her face
And her children
Will hold hands
And come back to dance
Around her whirling skirt
September 11, 2001
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