Tuesday, April 24, 2012

On Martyrs Day

On Martyrs Day

They hung us in the village square
Drove us through the desert
Murdered, butchered, raped, and maimed us
Because we were Armenian.

The Turks, and Kurds who did their work
For promises never honored
Thought killing us would make them stronger
Restore Ottoman glory
But it only bathed them in our blood,
An anti-baptism, like the flood
That brought us to Ararat.

This new sin, not very original,
Stains them to this day
But they will not repent and so
Most will not forgive,
And thus old hatreds stay.

But I have no enmity toward Turkish people
Living Turkish lives;
They only know what they've been told
A century of Turkish lies.

Most everyone is dead and gone
Who witnessed these terrible things
And though I heard my Medz-mayrig
Tell of everything she'd seen
I doubt they told their grandchildren
What they did in 1915.


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