Passersby on the pavement:

Day and night, they walk

Before the war

City hall used to close the pavement

And write: “under repair”

Day and night, they walk

To repair the pavement with steps.

The children:

They don’t care

What is really important is to go,

Even to God,

Wearing Eid clothes

The beautiful girls:

From their eyes’ glitters

We know how envious the sky was

To a degree that it invented lightning

And when the summer approached

It viciously sent rockets.

The mother:

Because I was afraid for my children

I got pregnant.

A bored man:

Thank you bullets, thank you cannons, thank you war:

Finally, finally,

The mosquitoes have disappeared.

The woman and her poet:

When I talk to you, you feel like writing

You go to your papers

Like a sleepwalker.

I, if you knew, got dancing from you

And this bombing is just rhythms,

Just rhythms

The neighbor’s son:

He threw it from the window

And wrote to her:

“That mattress, which held your scent, 

came from the new émigrés.”

The soldier who runs carrying his bleeding daughter:

He threw his weapon

He threw his short leave paper

And ran in crying.

When he came back without her

He told his wife:

“Satin is her skin……and all hands, all hearts are gunpowder.”