Exodus is almost death
If not death itself
Being forced to leave without packing up
With eyes closed, without caring to
Lock the door behind, without
Worrying about the direction to take
Just leaving after sleepless frightening nights
Walking down the stairs
Feeling one’s legs and the earth under one’s feet
Where should the feet walk without weakness?
Just leaving with bits of papers
If any remaining one could save your life
Forced to desert places, people
Look like wreckages: they
Walk because they have to
Walk to escape death
Only this could could never be certain

Exodus is almost-hell
If not hell itself – It is the image
Of disaster if not disaster itself
Staying home is impossible
Leaving home is impossible
Panoramic desolation

Blue death

So many children killed hugging their mothers
So many families uprooted
So many men vanished
Citizens of a country in constant destruction
It’s unthinkable.
Exodus image of fragile times
of the present and the future
Exodus image of an ephemeral country
The world is more than sick today
Exodus proves everyday that peace
Is never acquired, barbaric deeds
Never defeated.
The spirit saturated with horror, I only see
Ruins: ruins of the present adding up
to those of the past – and those of the future
Yet to come
Ruins over ruins and the dead
Piling over the dead.
Is it our human condition?
I call for silence.”

Greta Naufal, Beirut, July 2006 • The Return Gallery – Dublin, April –May 2007