Hiroshima

“My friends this is not the moon, this is a bomb falling now. Please pray for us tonight. I am afraid.” — words of little Bana Alabed, on her Twitter handle, hash-tagged Aleppo, dated 23Nov 2016, 8:57 am

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One day, out of the blue
rose the sun
not over the horizon,
the square of the town:
daylight
not from the space,
burst out of the soil.
The human shadows
directionless;
that sun, all over the place
rose it not from the ocean,
fell out of the blue
at the square of the town.
Phaeton’s broken chariot
wheels, fragmented hundreds
scattered all over the place.
That momentary rise and fall!
Only an enlightened moment’s
noon, engulfing the vision.
Then?
The human shadows
elongated, unerased:
humans vaporized!
Shadows written
over the scorched stones,
the stucco of the ruined roads.
A staged sun
engulfed the humans-vapor.
This charred shadow
engraved over the stone
stands the witness.

• a translation of Agyeya’s poem हिरोशिमा |