Huleikat - the Third Poem about Diki

In these hills even the oil drilling towers

are already a memory. Here fell Diki

that was four years older than me and was like a father to me

in a time of trouble and strife. Now I am forty years

older than him and I remember him

like a young son and I am an old mourning father.

And you, who only remember faces,

do not forget the hands reached out

and the feet running lightly

and the words.

Remember that even going out to the terrible battles

always passes through gardens and windows

and playing children and a barking dog.

Remember and remind the fallen fruit

of the leaves and the branch

remind the tough thorns

that they were soft and green in spring

and do not forget that the fist

was also once an open hand and fingers.