To my grandfather
Your sleep will postpone
the morning coffee,
so we’ll not be able to contemplate your blue eyes
As you sleep and wake fitfully
your bed will remain warm
but your saliva will not wet the pillow.
We’ll hear many stories about you,
we who stayed up any evenings
to hear your tales of demons, cats and grandmothers.
The days will not change us much
because your tenderness will stay with each of us,
we who often ate the products of your hands’ hard work
and whom you often distracted with flowers and basil on our balcony,
we who loved you.
Tomorrow in time
the morning will come
Everybody will be busy
but you will still sleep
no one will wake you
as those passing
will not notice your nimble eyes
as they shed their tears,
and you’ll not wipe your tears away
with your fingers wet from their ablution.
About this poem
This poem, representing Syria, is part of The Written World – our collaboration with BBC radio to broadcast a poem from every single nation competing in London 2012