Gurram Seetaramulu
The language of murder is the same everywhere
But we've to discover a new language to console you, child;
Bloodthirsty Uncle Sam
Has forcibly ended
Your parents' lives.
Now Gaza is bleeding
Your home has fallen;
Time is a butcher, child
Even the orchard of graves
Does not offer you a sapling.
The seed that was trampled
Under the march of the bunker busters
Promised you
A tree
Hope that grows
And offers you shade.
My translation of Gurram Seetaramulu's untitled Telugu poem expressing solidarity with Palestinians.
Gurram Seetaramulu is a doctoral fellow at EFLU.