Maria do Rosário Pedreira
LUNGS
[on a photograph of a child found dead on a beach in Turkey]
My father called me over and told me to pick out
a toy – just one – that I liked the most; and
to pick out another toy for Aylan, who
was still too young to choose, but just one, and
it had to be small. My father told me that
tonight he’d wrap up our things in a light
bundle; this way, once Aylan and I fell
asleep, he and my mother could carry us
without staying behind. There were tears in my father’s
eyes when he said that, tomorrow morning,
we’d have to leave our land; but he quickly
pulled it together, saying Kobanî wasn’t really
our land anymore, that our home was the ruins
of our home, that all of Syria was nothing but an eardrum
exhausted from all the noise and two eyes, tired,
so tired, of seeing flames and blood. My father
thought Aylan was too little to
understand, so he just told him that
we were going on a boat ride, that we’d spend
the day on a beach and that, while my mother and I
swam in the sea until we were breathless, he
could simply lie face down in the sand,
as he loved to do so much. My father never lied to us.
LONGEN
[over de foto van een kind dat dood werd aangetroffen op een strand in
Turkije]
Mijn vader riep me en vroeg me om een stuk speelgoed
te kiezen – eentje maar – waar ik erg dol op was; en om
een ander stuk speelgoed opzij te leggen voor Aylan, die
nog niet zelf kon kiezen. Maar ook voor hem maar één, en
het moest iets kleins zijn. Mijn vader legde me uit dat hij die
nacht dat kleine beetje, bijna niets, in een bundel bijeen
zou pakken; want op die manier konden hij en mijn moeder
Aylan en mij dragen als we in slaap vielen, zodat we niet
achterbleven. De ogen van mijn vader stonden vol tranen
toen hij vertelde dat we de volgende morgen weg zouden
moeten gaan uit onze stad; maar hij herstelde zich meteen
en zei dat Kobani ook niet echt meer onze stad was, dat
ons huis was veranderd in de ruïne van ons huis, dat
heel Syrië nu niet meer was dan een door te veel knallen
uitgeput trommelvlies en twee ogen die moe, zo ontzettend
moe waren van het zien van vlammen en bloed. Mijn vader
dacht dat Aylan nog te klein was om het te begrijpen en
had daarom alleen maar tegen hem gezegd dat we een
boottochtje gingen maken en dat we de dag zouden
doorbrengen op een strand, waar hij, terwijl mijn moeder
en ik in zee zwommen tot we buiten adem waren, gewoon
op zijn buik in het zand kon gaan liggen, waar hij zo dol
op was. Mijn vader heeft nooit tegen ons gelogen.
PULMÕES
[sobre a fotografia de uma criança encontrada morta numa praia da Turquia]
O meu pai chamou-me e pediu-me que escolhesse
um brinquedo – só um – de que gostasse muito; e
que separasse outro brinquedo para o Aylan, que
ainda não sabia escolher, mas só um, e tinha de
ser pequeno. O meu pai explicou-me que nessa
noite ia fazer de tudo quase nada numa trouxa
leve; porque assim, quando o Aylan e eu caíssemos
de sono, ele e a minha mãe poderiam levar-nos ao
colo sem ficarem para trás. Havia lágrimas nos olhos
do meu pai quando contou que, na manhã seguinte,
teríamos de deixar a nossa terra; mas logo se
recompôs, dizendo que Kobanî também já não era
bem a nossa terra, que a nossa casa era a ruína da
nossa casa, que toda a Síria não passava de um tímpano
exausto de tanto estrondo e dois olhos cansados,
mas tão cansados, de chamas e de sangue. O meu pai
achava que o Aylan era demasiado pequeno para
compreender e, por isso, dissera-lhe apenas que
iríamos dar um passeio de barco, que passaríamos
o dia numa praia e que, enquanto eu e a minha mãe
nadássemos no mar até ficarmos sem fôlego, ele
podia simplesmente deitar-se de bruços na areia,
como tanto gostava. O meu pai nunca nos mentiu.
From: O meu corpo humano
Publisher: Quetzal editores, Portugal
LUNGS
[on a photograph of a child found dead on a beach in Turkey]
My father called me over and told me to pick out
a toy – just one – that I liked the most; and
to pick out another toy for Aylan, who
was still too young to choose, but just one, and
it had to be small. My father told me that
tonight he’d wrap up our things in a light
bundle; this way, once Aylan and I fell
asleep, he and my mother could carry us
without staying behind. There were tears in my father’s
eyes when he said that, tomorrow morning,
we’d have to leave our land; but he quickly
pulled it together, saying Kobanî wasn’t really
our land anymore, that our home was the ruins
of our home, that all of Syria was nothing but an eardrum
exhausted from all the noise and two eyes, tired,
so tired, of seeing flames and blood. My father
thought Aylan was too little to
understand, so he just told him that
we were going on a boat ride, that we’d spend
the day on a beach and that, while my mother and I
swam in the sea until we were breathless, he
could simply lie face down in the sand,
as he loved to do so much. My father never lied to us.
From: O meu corpo humano
LUNGS
[on a photograph of a child found dead on a beach in Turkey]
My father called me over and told me to pick out
a toy – just one – that I liked the most; and
to pick out another toy for Aylan, who
was still too young to choose, but just one, and
it had to be small. My father told me that
tonight he’d wrap up our things in a light
bundle; this way, once Aylan and I fell
asleep, he and my mother could carry us
without staying behind. There were tears in my father’s
eyes when he said that, tomorrow morning,
we’d have to leave our land; but he quickly
pulled it together, saying Kobanî wasn’t really
our land anymore, that our home was the ruins
of our home, that all of Syria was nothing but an eardrum
exhausted from all the noise and two eyes, tired,
so tired, of seeing flames and blood. My father
thought Aylan was too little to
understand, so he just told him that
we were going on a boat ride, that we’d spend
the day on a beach and that, while my mother and I
swam in the sea until we were breathless, he
could simply lie face down in the sand,
as he loved to do so much. My father never lied to us.
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