Τρίτη, 12 Ιανουαρίου 2010

Poems used in Refugee Week

http://photography.nationalgeographic.com/staticfiles/NGS/Shared/StaticFiles/Photography/Images/POD/r/refugee-girl-472269-sw.jpg http://www.cnn.com/CNN/Programs/anderson.cooper.360/blog/uploaded_images/RefugeeGirl-739166.jpghttp://photography.nationalgeographic.com/staticfiles/NGS/Shared/StaticFiles/Photography/Images/POD/r/refugee-child-524454-lw.jpghttp://www.eslcenter.org/wp-content/uploads/2008/11/world.jpg


REFUGEE

So I have a new name – refugee.
Strange that a name should take away from me
My past, my personality and hope.
Strange refuge this.
So many seem to share this name – refugee
Yet we share so many differences.
I find no comfort in my new name.
I long to share my past, restore my pride,
To show, I too, in time, will offer more
Than I have borrowed.
For now the comfort that I seek
Resides in the old yet new name
I would choose – friend.

Rubimbo Bungwe, from Zimbabwe, 2002

 **************************


I'M NOT HERE

I'm not here and I don't exist.
There is sunshine and blossoms in my town
but unknown hands steal its smell of summer
and the silk from the sehar.
I'm not here but my soul
smuggles through every street at night
and sticks a lily on each buttonhole
and plants a tree by every house.

Mujo Mustafic

**************************

MIND

I sit in the gloom
I see a graceful golden eagle
I dreamt to fly over the towers
I sit in the dark and see a fish swim as
smooth as a mountain stream
I see the base of the sea
I see the silver top reflecting my image
I throw a stone in it, it ripples with life
I brought something into the sea which
did not belong there
I upset the balance between sea and land
I can't fly like a bird
I can't swim like a fish
But I know I'm a human
And that's enough for me
I have no wing, I have no fins, but,
I have working poem mind where
I swim
I fly
I'm equal to any animal
I fly in the astro plain
I swim in the sea of peace
I can ride horses with wings
I can see endless possibilities of what the
future holds.

By Rizgar Mella, a twelve year old schoolboy from West London.

Rizgar has been named one of the winners of a national writing competition
organised by Young Writers. His parents came to the UK 15 years ago as
refugees from Syria. His poem aims to capture the essence of what it is
like to be human.

**************************

DREAM OF A BIRD - By a 14 year old Vietnamese boy
You ask me, what
did I dream?
I dreamt I became
a bird.
You ask me, why did I
want to become a bird?
I really wanted to
have wings.
You ask me, why did I
want wings?
These wings would
help me to fly back to
my country.
You ask me, why did I
want to go back there?
Because I wanted to
find something
I missed.
You ask me, what
do I miss?
I miss the place where
I lived as a child.
You ask me, what was
that place like?
The place was happy,
my family was close
together.
You ask me, what I
remember best?
I still remember my
father reading the
newspaper.
You ask me, why I
think of him?
I miss him and
I'm sad.
You ask me, why
I am sad?
I'm sad because all my
friends have fathers.
You ask me, why does
this matter?
Because my father is
far away.
I want to fly to him like a bird.
In my dreams, I walk among the ruins
of the old part of town,
looking for a bit of stale bread.
My mother and I inhale
the fumes of gunpowder
I imagine it to be the smell of pies, cakes and kebabs.

Edina, age 12

**************************

SORRY

Sorry that we are here
That we take your time
Sorry
Sorry that we breathe your air
That we walk on your ground
That we stand in your view
Sorry
Yes sorry
Sorry that we look like we do
Sorry that we disturb your rest
You do enough for us already
Sorry that we are not grateful and happy
Not grateful enough
And that my name is not David
Or Catherine
Or May
But Rashed
Holta
And Ardita
Sorry that we sit in your trains and buses
And on your benches in the sun
And sorry that we brought nothing
And the only thing we have is a story
Not even a happy story …

Poem by a boy from Bosnia

*************************

IF I WERE A PRESIDENT

The tanks would be playhouses for the kids.
Boxes of candy would fall from the sky.
The mortars would fire balloons.
And the guns would blossom with flowers.
All the world's children
Would sleep in peace unbroken
By alerts or shouting.
The refugees would return to their villages.
And we would start anew.

By Roberto, aged 10

************************** 

THE TWO AZIZAS

Aziza watches Power Rangers
Every night on the tele.
At night the other Aziza goes
Flying through the sky.
Aziza likes swimming but
She is not very good.
At night the other Aziza
Goes swimming in the ocean
With the big fish.
Aziza never goes on holiday
But the other Aziza
Goes to Somalia every weekend.

By Aziza Hussein age 9, Barlby Primary School, W10

**************************

By Nedim, age 5

I had a new tricycle
Red and yellow and with a bell.
Do you think they have destroyed my
Tricycle too?

**************************

From "http://wiki.socialcenter.gr

3 σχόλια:

  1. Truth comes from the mouths of children... thank you for sharing these...

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  2. Deadman,χαίρομαι πολύ που έβαλες εδώ τα ποίηματα!!! Αngela

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  3. Αγάπη μου την ελπίδα μου θέλω
    Τα μάτια τους με καίνε
    Τα δάκρυά μας βούλιαξαν τα μάγουλα της γης..


    Λιάνα

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