How magnificent the war is
How eager
and efficient!
Early in the morning
it wakes up the sirens
and dispatches ambulances
to various places
swings corpses through the air
rolls stretchers to the wounded
summons rain
from the eyes of mothers
digs into the earth
dislodging many things
from under the ruins
some are lifeless and glistening
others are pale and still throbbing
it produces the most questions
in the minds of children
entertains the gods
by shooting fireworks and missiles
into the sky
sows mines in the fields
and reaps punctures and blisters
urges families to emigrate
stands beside the clergymen
as they curse the devil
(while the poor remain
with one hand in the searing fire).
The war continues working, day and night
it inspires tyrants
to deliver long speeches
awards medals to generals
and themes to poets
it contributes to the industry
of artificial limbs
provides food for flies
adds pages to the history books
achieves equality
between killer
and killed
teaches lovers to write letters
accustoms young women to waiting
fills the newspapers
with articles and pictures
builds new houses
for the orphans
invigorates the coffin makers
and gives grave diggers
a pat on the back
paints a smile on the leader's face.
It works with unparalleled diligence!
Yet no one gives it
a word of praise.

The War Works Hard by Dunya Mikhail

                        Translated into French by Jean Migrenne

                        La guerre fait florès

                        Voyez comme la guerre fait florès !

                        Quel abattage,

                        quelle efficacité !

                        Au petit matin

                        elle réveille les sirènes

                        envoie des ambulances

                        tous azimuts

                        catapulte des cadavres

                        pousse des brancards vers les blessés

                        fait tomber à verse

                        les larmes des mères,

                        labourant la terre

                        elle extirpe des décombres

                        tout ce qu'ils recouvraient

                        de matière inerte et luisante

                        ou bien pâle et palpitante

                        elle suscite toutes ces questions

                        dans l'esprit des enfants

                        divertit les dieux

                        à coup de feux d'artifice et fuse

                        jusqu'au firmament

                        semeuse de mines elle est

                        moissonneuse de trous et brûlures

                        elle exile les familles

                        elle est acolyte d'un clergé

                        qui maudit le démon

                        (quand les pauvres restent pris

                        la main dans la fournaise).

                        Inlassable, jour et nuit, la guerre

                        dicte aux tyrans

                        d'interminables discours

                        barde les généraux de médailles

                        souffle leurs thèmes aux poètes

                        fait tourner

                        les ateliers de prothèses

                        engraisse les mouches

                        grossit les manuels d'histoire

                        établit l'égalité

                        entre assassin

                        et assassiné

                        enseigne l'art des lettres d'amour

                        apprend aux jeunes femmes à attendre

                        emplit les journaux

                        d'articles et de photos

                        construit

                        de nouveaux orphelinats

                        stimule les fabricants  de cercueils

                        et donne au fossoyeur éreinté

                        une tape amicale,

                        le dirigeant l'affiche en sourire.

                        Quelle ardeur hors pair!

                        Et dire que personne

                        ne chante sa louange.

Last night, President Bush suggested for the first time that anyone who does not agree with his war policies will be brought to justice. I take this to mean that if you're not happy about bombing poor, starving people in countries like Afghanistan and Iraq, if you don't espouse a philosophy of War-Glorification, in short, if you don't agree with President Bush's war policies, then you are a terrorist.

I would like to respond to President Bush with the above poem by Dunya Mikhail. She was born in Baghdad in 1965. She was a witness to two wars: The Iraq-Iran war and the Gulf War. This is the side of war that no one wishes to see or acknowledge. Although "The War Works Hard" is satirical — it rings dark truths about the devastation of war and that there is no glory in it. Dunya Mikhail's poem first appeared in Poetry International Issue V 2001. Most recently, Dunya Mikhail was awarded the UN Human Rights Watch Award of Freedom of Writing.

Jean Migrenne is a regular contributor to ForPoetry.com.  Click here to read his latest translation of Robert Lowell's work from English to French.

—Jacqueline Marcus, Editor of ForPoetry.com
1/6/02

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