Autumn 2002 (10.3)
Page
8
Readers' Forum
"Young
Poet's Voice Reaches Beyond
Editor's Note: The following letter came to us via
our Web site, AZER.com, after the reader had discovered the article,
"Don't
Call Me 'Refugee'-My Name is Lamiya" in our Spring 1999
issue (AI
7.1). We had featured Lamiya, a young
refugee child who expressed her thoughts and feelings about her
pain in poetry.
______
Hi Lamiya,
I've just read your poems. I think they're really nice and touching.
Please continue. I hope your country and your people will find
happiness. Never give up hope.
With love and respect,
Johanna from Romania
P.S. All I want is Peace in
this world...God help us!
Photo: Lamiya who writes poetry with her
younger sister and brother in their home, 1997
(The photo was taken by Roshanak Bayramlou)
Lamiya Safarova lives in a refugee settlement outside
of Baku. Lamiya, now 15, was only nine years old when she penned
the following poem. One day, she came home from her new school
crying because kids had called her "refugee", (gachgin)
a word that means "runner", implying "one who
runs away" in Azeri. She sat down and penned this poem.
Please Don't
Call Me Refugee!
My life, my destiny
Has been so painful, so don't call me "refugee".
My heart aches, my eyes cry,
I beg of you, please don't call me "refugee".
It feels like I don't even exist
in the world,
As if I'm a migrant bird far away from my land
Turning back to look at my village.
I beg of you, please don't call me "refugee".
Oh, the things I've seen during
these painful years,
The most beautiful days I've seen in my land.
I've dreamed only about our house.
I beg of you, please don't call me "refugee".
The reason why I write these
sad things
Is that living a meaningless life is like hell.
What I really want to say is:
I beg of you, please don't call me "refugee".
____
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