Les étoiles de Halabja

Les étoiles de Halabja (Aragón, 2016)

Morning has been
chopped up in little
pieces of mirror
and the Moon
has been corrupted
with a few coins.
The crystal silver
pieces have been
extended throughout
the night;
they are trying to cover
their children from the gas
and they have died.
The sky is just
the reflection
of the mothers’ corpses
that shall be buried
with their children
where the trees
will grow
again one day;
death was carried in the
men’s throats like
a silent city;
when they slit them
the world was infested:
the rotting bodies
left to dry
were used
as parchment paper
to write History,
and their ragged clothes
were used as nets
to capture
and jail them.

To the victims of the Halabja Massacre (16/03/1988), In Memoriam. (Number I of a Halabja Trilogy)

by Angel Aragón

Peshawar (Too Dark to See, Too Far)

A day ago (too dark to see, too far)

I remember Peshawar,


“I Remember Peshawar” (Aragon, 2015)

’twas only yesterday,

a day ago,

too dark to see, too far

(disguised in winter

came the men of death

that killed with cold,

with bullet ice)

a little school

like a young horse

was killed,


a lead sword

that cuts a blooming rose

in fields of dust

we have abandoned;

no butterflies remain

that sing during the night

for those who fell

to build a city of stone

a cenotaph

a tomb,

a tear,

a song.

I remember Peshawar

a perpetual vacuum,

the carnage of humanity;

no city of stone

for those who fell,

no birds to sing


this here’s my first

this stone

i pray this grain of sand

is not absorbed

like ash

this night

the night of time

the river twilight

the dead horse

we used to ride

we rode too much

Here’s his funeral

so he may rest in peace

god help me not to cry

as if my tears were meant

to wash

the blood and rape

of Peshawar’s lullaby

god help me not to cry

but rather sing

the eternal death

of humankind.

[To them]

by Angel Aragón