a voice of experience

From the Diary of an Almost-Four-Year-Old

Tomorrow, the bandages
will come off. I wonder
will I see half an orange,
half an apple, half my
mother’s face
with my one remaining eye?

I did not see the bullet
but felt its pain
exploding in my head.
His image did not
vanish, the soldier
with a big gun, unsteady
hands, and a look in
his eyes
I could not understand.

If I can see him so clearly
with my eyes closed,
it could be that inside our heads
we each have one spare set
of eyes
to make up for the ones we lose.

Next month, on my birthday,
I’ll have a brand new glass eye,
maybe things will look round
and fat in the middle -
I’ve gazed through all my marbles,
they made the world look strange

I hear a nine-month-old
has also lost an eye,
I wonder if my soldier
shot her too - a soldier
looking for little girls who
look him in the eye-
I'm old enough, almost four,
I’ve seen enough of life,
but she’s just a baby
who didn’t know any better
- Hanan Mikha-il ‘Ashrawi


As with the poem by Adonis this poem is published in a collection of poems now called "the flag of childhood - poems from the middle east" selected by Naomi Shihab Nye. ISBN 0-689-81233-7 (hc) It was previously published with the title "The Space Between Our Footsteps" which remains an excellent title AND an invitation to explore for oneself. Hence its inclusion under this particular label

Lest this point is ignored - as I suspect it might. The four year old, the infant AND the young soldier are all hurt, damaged and victims.