fresh faced. just married. newly dead
dark-skinned unmarked as yet
lying on a makeshift bed
while relatives, male
haggle ungrieving over paperwork, fees
nearby a girl, no older, is singing
where did you learn this song child?
how many deaths have you already seen?
assume a mother teaches her child lullabies
her repertoire of marriage songs
who teaches the young their funeral dirges?
others do not respond
not even pretend not to notice
this, at the end of a street
lined with photographers
[the mourners like their picture taken
with the body on the makeshift cot]
August 28 1993
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem