Land

The marks of her tears are

etched permanently on her pretty cheeks.

Her beautiful lips seduce

even when she shrieks.

Her desperate cries go on and on.

Her voice is now hoarse.

She begs us to stop but

ends up provoking us even more.

We rape her

And watch her bleed

Beauty itself invites destruction

So isn't she responsible for our deeds?

She flails her arms.

She screams.

She tries to fight.

She cannot challenge our iron might.

There will come a time when everyone will know, she says.

We slap her across her rose-tinted face.

Everyone already knows, but there is no one to fear

because everyone is an animal out here!

Someday she will fall silent forever

after cursing and begging in vain.

And although we would be the murderers of her flawlessness,

do you think we would bow down our heads in shame?

We wouldn't mind pressing, for one more time

her dead woman's arms under our iron hands.

And then raping for the last time, her dead woman's wealth.

She is, after all, only a piece of land.

[To Kashmir]