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Back to Belfast

I have been to the Ghetto thrice
To Auschwitz twice
And to Belfast once
And to tell the truth
Belfast is the winner of the weirdest places 
Where I’ve ever been

But to be fair
That was just before Good Friday-
The peak of the peace process

Deserted streets
Walls dividing roads
Flags aggressively hanging from windows
Emblems that define their owners’ sympathy
Plain buildings bedecked by racist graffiti

It made me think of a European inter-war capital
Berlin or Rome in the era of dictators
Sectarian genocide was lurking there
But no blackshirts visible to give it an edge

My country, my people
What have you done?
How could you do this?
Answer me!


I’ve had my share of tight corners 
But I can safely say 
No place ever made me feel so uneasy
As Belfast on that day

Until now
Now when I’ve returned
Back there
Back to Belfast

Deserted streets
Fences blocking movement
Face masks preventing and protecting against infection
Emblems that define the struggle for survival
Health signs that warn us how to avoid death
Death at the hands of the virus

Homicide, infanticide, genocide-
This time there’s no special target
The enemy is everybody
With the infection






Now the blackshirts are on the road
Patrolling a deserted dyke
On the outskirts of Warsaw
Soldiers, policemen,  imposing regulations
All doing their duty, all plainly seen
But the enemy is invisible

The victims in isolation
Their families in quarantine
The rest of us waiting
For the lurking virus to strike again
If we stay at home-
With shops and cafes
Parks and cinemas closed-
Are we safe?

If I daub the door of my house 
With the blood of Lombards
Will I escape this Shoah?
For how long will this go on?
How many more deaths
Before the required quota?



My God, my God 
What have we done?
How have we offended you?
Answer me!
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