Children and Wars

 

If Nazim Hikmet had seen how Israel has killed more than three thousand Palestinian children in Gaza in four weeks, he would have written about 𝐆𝐚𝐳𝐚 𝐂𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐝𝐫𝐞𝐧 as he did about the Hiroshima child.

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𝐇𝐢𝐫𝐨𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐦𝐚 𝐂𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐝 - 𝐏𝐨𝐞𝐦 𝐛𝐲 𝐍𝐚𝐳𝐢𝐦 𝐇𝐢𝐤𝐦𝐞𝐭 (1902-1963)

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, though 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 a 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 nor even bread

I ask for nothing for myself

For I am dead, for I am dead

All that I need is that for peace

You fight today, you fight today

So that the children of this world

Can live and grow and laugh and play