Whose dying breaths
in your hazel eyes?
What small child's gaze
goes blank at your trigger?
For what young girl,
her heart in your palm,
legs bloodied, does your heart beat?
What fate will tear the cliffs
from under your feet?
What woman will feel her nipples burn
for your black curls in the dust,
what mother for her son?
in the depths of whose eyes
will your dying breaths find peace?
The literal translation of this poem was made by Zuzanna Olszewska
The final translated version of the poem is by Mimi Khalvati
© Poetry Translation Centre 2004-2015