The Homeland That Slept In Its Cage Became A Beast Poem by nawzad jaadan

The homeland that once slept in its cage
Has turned into a ferocious beast.**
The enemy was like flies
Gnawing at the hands of morning.

Do you remember, Grandmother,
When we gathered the bread?
You said the roses we planted
Were trodden by the enemy's cattle—
And instead of milk,
They sold us bullets.

The summer was searing.
We bought no fan, opened no window.
Buses from our village passed,
Carrying baskets filled with our sweat.
And when the flies grew unbearable at dawn,
They used them to scrub the city's pavements.

I think too much...
I stay silent for too long...
And when sleep escapes me,
I count the names of those who've departed,
And hang my nightmares
On the strings of okra
That Grandma used to tie along the threshold.

I sit for long hours...
And reweave hope
Each time the fabric of the homeland begins to tear.