Every afternoon in Syria a child dies, every afternoon. Every afternoon the water sits down to talk things over with its friends...

What kind of people do this ?

The dead wear wings of moss.
The wind cloudy and the wind clean
are two pheasants that circle the towers
and the day is a wounded boy.

What kind of people do this ?

No blade of lark remains in the air
when i found you there in the streets.
No crumb of cloud remained on the land
when you were drowning in the river.

What kind of people do this ?

A giant of water or was it bombs,
fell over the towns like;
Cats and dogs... Or.
Your body, shadowed violet by my hands,
or my conscience dead on the bank,
Or was there a bomb or how make this ?

What kind of people do this ?

What kind of people ?