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This poem, in a revised version here, was first written in January of 2003 for Sam Hamill’s Poets Against the War website (see my page, available through the Internet Archive), for which I was also a volunteer editor. See also “Beating about the Bush” and “O President, My President.” Also published in Afagando a Face de Lorca [Stroking Lorca’s Face], edited by Francisco José Craveiro de Carvalho, Lajes do Pico, Portugal: Companhia das Ilhas [Island Company], 2020, pages 180 (English) and 181 (Portuguese translation by the editor). + + +
Iraqi Boys
Iraqi Boys
The Iraqi boy bouncing a ball
in his schoolyard
knows nothing of the wind
of falling bombs.
Too young to know the crude cost of oil,
he does not recall
the liberation that cost him
his uncles’ lives and limbs.
I hope that he might die
only of old age,
and live to buy his grandchildren
their own red rubber balls.
Os miúdos iraquianos
Os miúdos iraquianos
O miúdo iraquiano a bater a bola
no pátio da escola
nada sabe sobre o vento
que as bombas criam ao caírem.
É muito novo para conhecer o preço bruto do petróleo,
não se lembra
da libertação que lhe custou
as vidas e os membros dos tios.
Espero que possa morrer
apenas de velhice
e viver para comprar aos netos
as suas bolas de borracha encarnadas.
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