Sabra Y Chatila

Where was the sun when the unleashed echoes of anger sounded?
Could it be that the shadows extinguished it
in Sabra and Shatila?

Where was God when people were subjected to ice in their pupils?
Could it be that He has become indifferent
in Sabra and Shatila?

Where was I, in which galaxy,
insensitively reading the news?
Could I be just another in the fallacy
of Sabra and Shatila?

Where were you, with your arrogance,
mighty lord carrying in your backpack
the entire childhood corpse
of Sabra and Shatila?

Where is the voice of the lawyer
prosecutor of reason and justice?
Could it be that his laws were repealed
in Sabra and Shatila?

Where is the pride of men,
or should we say 'hypocrisy'?
Why does so much pain have no name
in Sabra and Shatila?

What are you talking about, my friend?
Can't you see that my conscience is clear?
What do I have to do with what happened
in Sabra and Shatila?

Or perhaps I was with the soldiers
at a distance, among their ranks
accepting the accomplished facts
in Sabra and Shatila?

It's time to issue statements
that smooth the thorny thorn.
What will they do to hide what happened
in Sabra and Shatila?

What will they do to lessen the hysterical,
total and collective condemnation?
What will they do to stop the gangrene
of Sabra and Shatila?

Although I remain absent in my galaxy,
commenting on the news in songs,
the angel of horror continues its march
in Sabra and Shatila.

It wanders through Beirut and other moons,
constantly crawling, like an eel.
Insatiable and blinded by the greed
of Sabra and Shatila.

Perhaps it wants to reach my door.
Maybe it's just around the corner.
The wound was already opened and remains open
in Sabra and Shatila.

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J. C. M. P.