Classic Poem

I knew Ibrahim
my dear neighbor
from way back. I knew him
as a well overflowing with water
which people passed by
without stopping to drink
or even to drop
a stone.

" If I were to sail again
with my forehead a mast of light ... "
says Ibrahim, on a piece of paper
stained with his blood,
" Would the stream change
its course, would
branches knot their buds
in autumn, would fruit ripen
and stones grow leaves? "

" If I were to live and
die anew, would the sky
unfold its face
and vultures stop circling
the caravans?
Would factories laugh
with smoky voices,
and noises subside
in the fields and the streets?
Would the poor eat their daily bread
with the sweat of their brows,
instead of humiliation's tears? "

When the enemy aimed
its cannon of death
and the soldiers rushed
under the hailstones of bullets
They heard,
" Retreat! Retreat!
In the shelter behind you
is safety from death and shelling. "
But Ibrahim kept on marching,
his tiny breast filling
the horizon, marching forward —
" Retreat! Retreat!
In the shelter behind you
is safety from death and shelling! "
But Ibrahim kept marching
as though he didn't hear.

They said it was madness.
Maybe it was madness.
But I had known my dear neighbor Ibrahim
from way back. From childhood I knew him as
a well overflowing with water,
which people would pass by
without stopping to drink
or even,
even to drop