Poetry

Enter Weapons Factories

Dalia Taha,

translated by

Sara Elkamel

I was writing a poem and needed

the name of a tree,

so I started looking through the list

of trees in Palestine,

where I lost myself

like one loses herself in a forest.

This is an amber tree, native to the United States,

and this, a camel’s foot from India.

This one you walk past every day is a yellow poinciana,

from Argentina, and this one is a Japanese pagoda.

And the poplar tree that sways in the wind

hails from North Africa.

This one needs light soil,

and that one thrives on the banks of streams and rivers.

In every picture I found,

the leaves cast back the sun’s radiance.

Amid this kingdom of trees,

the world built its weapons factories.

And from every forest, we were sent a tree

and from every factory, a weapon—

our soil received the former,

and our children the latter.

This poem is part of a linked trio. Click here to read “Enter Silence” and here to read “Enter Military Songs.”

Dalia Taha is the author of the plays Fireworks and Keffiyeh/Made in China. She lives and works in Ramallah and teaches at Birzeit University and Al-Quds Bard College.

Sara Elkamel is a writer who holds an MA in arts journalism from Columbia University and an MFA in poetry from New York University. She is the author of the chapbook Field of No Justice.

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