From Father to Daughter

You don’t understand, my child, I went through it I hope you won’t.

While going on family trips he used to tell us: This is the mountain Gcheshka, here I fought. Here your uncle Sardar died.

We carried while eating, sleeping, dancing, and crying the Kalashnikov and its bullets. We were ready to fight.

Kurdistan is the haven of the Middle East It is safe, safe, it is. Our Kurdistan it will never happen again.

Deep inside I knew he was still grieving, day and night, but they made it safe for us.

We can now use our pens and change History. We don’t have two oceans, protecting us. Will there come a day when I need to know how to use his Kalashnikov? *