One does not speak of death(1),
the words kept their magic
even in this strange country
where the Lord has forsaken us.
We had lost our ways since our guides
were drawn in quicksand long ago. With
of this journey nowhere in sight
all we can do is watch our people die
on the side of the roads. We're told
that there is not time
and bury them according to the rites.
Our leaders pull us forward in the endless journey
we march, we lose our dead, our memories and know
that nothing'll be left soon, not even shadows (2).
(1) A quotation from Shoah, and a poem by Anne Ranasinghe.
(2) "Not even shadows" is a poetry book published in Colombo, Sri Lanka - I used the title of the book and lines from one of the poems "Umsiedlungsaktion - One does not speak of death" for the NaPoWriMo#10 prompt "Thrift Store" since the book printed in 1991 is hard to find in US.
Anne Ranasinghe, born Anneliese Katz, is an English language poet living in Sri Lanka and a Holocaust survivor. She moved to Sri Lanka after marrying a Sinhalese doctor and, from my best knowledge, she embraced the local culture.
"Umsiedlungsaktion - One does not speak of death" is a poem about and for refugees , rooted in her childhood experiences but also relevant for the refugees from Sri Lankan conflict.