Two sisters
They were born and raised in
Their simple melting-pot,
The Kurdish Yazidis.
They would be Yazidis
No question, Mesopotamian
Ethnically Kurdish
A mix of religions.
No-one asked:
Who? And What?
They'd remain as ever.
But now are scattered
Far more than they then were
In, around Nineveh
Old Assyrian, now Iraq.
Their faith too extract of the past
Zoroastrianism, Judaist Mono-Theists…
With demand clear:
"Don't marry with others
Or you are converted…"
Came swords and guns and bombs
Perfected by drones
Now they are everywhere
Germany to here.
Kurmanji (their old tongue)
Is dying as snow in the sun.
A sister and her house
Helped other come around
Kitchener became home
But now, two are at fight.
Their husbands' jealousy
With greed's leprosy
Broke those great bonds
Simplicity filled with love.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Jealousy is a wicked thing and can tear a family apart. Nice poem.
True my dear and thanks