Identity

For Mahmoud Darwish

Some people have lost their identitiesbut I haven’tMy name is Jidi Majia.I’ve recited my family tree this way:. . . Jidi Jimu, Jiri Ahuo. . .. . .Washi Gege, Muti Niuniu . . .Therefore, I believe the epic Hnewo Teyy is trueIt says that before the land was born,the sacred eagle’s blood was fatedto come from the silent skyAnd that road that belongs to the soulallows us to find our way back homeamidst the darkness of memoryNo wonder people have told mein this world where some people lose their identitiesI’m lucky because I still knowthe history of my people’s bloodI can still sing the folk songsthat my ancestors have passed down to the presentOf course, sometimes I grow alarmedbecause my mother tongueis turning away from my mouthThe funeral of word-roots is like a flameIt’s true, each time things are like this,Darwish, my dear brother,I sink into a sorrow I’ve never knownI pray for fairness and justicefor those who’ve lost their homelandsThis certainly isn’t only becausethey’ve lost the land on which their survival dependsIt’s also because those drifters who’ve lost their identitieshave had their spiritual homelands destroyed