( October 1991 )
The house is wrecked, the kids are dead My wife was murdered - neighbours said
I stand alone, without a hope Without a home, without a friend
The rest have gone, the fighters fled The fields are empty, but for Lead
A poison cloud of mustard gas An orange film of powdered death
Aromas void of nature’s best An outrage wells up in my chest
I cry, I grieve, I wish to die I plead, I pray - it’s all a lie
Perhaps a dream, it’s not My house The number proves it is, alas
I close my eyes and shut my mind Imagine that I have gone blind
I see not more, only the past The blissful moment does not last
The whining noise of death on wings A giant explosion rings
The bastards returned to ensure No one survives their murderous tour
My Lovely Homeland is For Sale Its mortgage paid with blood and shale
The gardens extend ‘cross frontiers Our "Neighbours" peed in them for years
Today they brought us more bad news- We are to suffer like the Jews,
Two Thousand years and may be more A nation, no one will adore
Our Homeland has never been ours As tenants we have no powers
The Law was made by foreign Tsars Arabs, Britons, even Tartars
Our Leaders tell us ask no more Your rights are dreams and we should know
The Yanks have always told us so We know exactly what to do
Our Independence is taboo For Sale it is, then, Kurdistan!
I hope our children understand We have to move to somewhere else
and exorcise this dreadful Curse While all the nations of the world
achieve their freedom We are told: "You don’t possess the right to be"
"An Independent Entity" But, worst of all
for this we fall and stuff the minds of our folk
with Words our Enemies spoke. And anyone who should persist
is placed on their blackest list. A danger he becomes at once
against their personal advance.
‘For Sale’ for a Nominal sum
We’ll even take an empty slum. In any corner of your earth
We plead with those who stole our wealth
In any portion of your globe. We will reside and do our job
Beneath a tent or plastic sheet. We’ll huddle and curl up our feet
If only we are to survive, the holocaust and stay alive
We’ll follow orders just like sheep, a Promise we shall always keep
"For Sale", a sign for all to see. By reason of economy
The bankrupt tenants have to leave. A quick sale they have to achieve
The world believes we don’t exist. A problem that seems to persist
They have convinced us that we should. Forget the future if we could
We must accept the status-quo. There is no hope and we should know
The Kurds are Arabs with no brain. Or, Mountain Turks fighting in vain
Proclaiming that they are apart. But know they are not deep in their heart
A type of Persian, if you please. Inferior and so ill at ease
The slightest problem and they crack. They even blamed it on Zohak
Some Kurds Belong to S Hussein. Although reputedly insane
They must remain in his domain, and pledge allegiance to his reign
Our leaders think we are to blame. We should repent, adopt his aim
He IS the Leader of Iraq, and is immune from all attack
We won’t repeat the episode. We will approve of this "accord"
Democracy is all we seek. ‘FREE KURDISTAN’ ???
What Bloody Cheek?!
In Shame and guilt we all submit
The Fault is ours we admit. An aberration which will pass
We do apologise enmasse!
Descended in the dead of night. A dozen men with stripes of white
They broke the fragile (Derga) down. They saw the screams but heard them not!
Their heads were full of murderous plot. A woman clutching babes in arms.
A granddad bewildered and alarmed.
Bellowed one soldier: "Show your man!!"
"Quick be you wench, Do you understand?!" Blast after blast he shot the kids,
and bits of wall came crashing down. "Be grateful bitch, you’re still alive.
I’ll count, to let you live, till five. Your husband dies so you’ll survive."
"I don’t know, begged she, where he is. A wife I’m no longer, even, his.
Perhaps he’s now an Arab (Jash), Or May be Persian Mulla’s (Diz). Jash=Collaborator, Diz=Thief.
I swear I’m just a ‘Mountain Turk’. I’ll never from my servitude shirk.
You’ve killed my kids and dad in vain. And mixed their virgin blood with rain.
Allow me, mighty Turkish Knight. To make you feel at home tonight"
The Mongol Warrior laughed aloud, and spread his legs as he then crouched.
"Come wench, you’re mine and always will, deserve to serve my Race and Will".
The mother went to make them tea. She crossed the dead who seemed asleep.
And as she laced their tea with (Gift), she thought she saw her youngest shift. Gift=German for poison
No sooner did he move a slug, was let off to pin him to the rug.
Another warrior slit his throat, and pulled his head off like a goat.
The mother served the poisoned drink, and when they drank they all felt sick.
But when the last man spent his life, she picked the largest kitchen knife,
and pierced her belly till she felt, the tip of steel invade her spine.
Her eyes were filled with tears divine. "I’m yours she screamed with mighty pain.
God Damn you Lord of the insane".
The years go by. The decades roll.
As Cowards die, and Heroes Fall.
A thousand years and we still weep. Our plight gets worse, our wounds more deep.
Long have we lost the will to live, to take what’s ours, learn to give.
A thousand more we shall remain, others’ belongings and domain.
But, ever more we will demand, to be protectors of the land.
For him and her, for all of them. We love to be the masters’ scum.
Give up your greed. Support your breed
Do not react. Command and Act
Without Conceit. Divided we can not succeed
Demand your rights. Attain the heights
And raise your sights. Do not regret. Unite, Ignite the flame of freedom
Demand your state. Do read and write to expedite,
and Stand before invasion. And spread the word
to every man. We ARE an ancient nation
To fail you’ll see, your life is grim, your future dim,
your struggle lost before its start. The seeds of woe with foreign aid,
is made to grow to serve your foe. Give up your greed. Support your breed,
command and lead. Divided we can not succeed
Your fellow Kurds across the hills, beyond the lines await your deed
Your help, they need. However soon, however late you will achieve your freedom, fate
Remember always come the tide. Your real friends are by your side. The mountain tops are true to you.
The trees, the hills, protecting you
The Heavens watching over you. But, as I dream and visualise of times afar,
beside a stream, I realise.. Alas, today, just as before Just as Before
Lies and deceit and Self-Defeat, command the Kurdish nation, for ever more
For ever more. For some reward, Autonomy, rottenomy, A fistful of Dinars
A post or two, Oh Foolish you, for Self Determination ?
Your Kurdish Front. Your leaders, who, For promised wealth are selling you
Telling the world "The Kurds deny". A Kurdish State? Who wants to die?
They lie. They lie! What Kurdistan? What Nation States?
We want to help our Arab mates. To whom who butchered half out folk
We rushed and kissed and long embraced. We were mistaken clearly
We’ve always loved him dearly. The struggle was, but, a sick joke
Seven decades, the people fought. They died, they sighed: Our Leaders lied
And as THEY sleep in their hives. They live while thousands lost their lives
A tribal chief an Uncle Tom, a bunch of half witted scum
Decided that the Kurds are dumb. Began to use them for their ends,
and serving their new Turkish "friends" I wonder what the Kurds have done
deserving such a heap of dung
Nury Ilm w Maarifet wa sherq w gherby girtewe, Qewmy eme taze teaalymy xet w imla eka