I Will Rise One DayI will rise one day and speak itI, the Kurd, will rise one dayand speak itI, the Amazigh, your voicewill rise one dayI, the Arab you knowwill rise one dayand speak it:They've gone now, Saladin

Eight centuries have passedlike a nap in the late afternoonmy throat is chokedwith words I cannot speak(from The Last Soldier's Words to Saladin)

"Who Remembers the Armenians?"I remember themand I ride the nightmare bus with themeach nightand my coffee, this morningI'm drinking it with themYou, murderer - Who remembers you?

Armenian CognacA bottle of cognac from Yerevanis on my kitchen tableas closed as that historyand as silentIf I broke it down I'd lose a hundred yearsof loveand if I opened it the ancestorshanging here in black and whitewould come down from the wallsto have a glass with meI know a history that's been forgottenand I know why that bottle of cognacstands with such singular pride....If I broke it now I'd lose a hundred years of my people's history

An Opera for Kamal BoullataIf I were one of those musicianswho penned grand Italian operaswhere the notes, like clogsstrike all the chordsof Mediterraneans like usI would compose oneand dedicate it to youYet sadly these shrill wordsare all I have for you

Just like you, my country cannot hear me:She's made of bronzeand Ican no longer reach her heart(from Thoughts on the Statue of Talaat Harb)