Poet Republik-Sam Zamrik

Syrian poet Sam Zamrik doesn’t shy away from the hard truths. In a conversation I had with Sam we agreed it’s hard to be human, “that’s why we write,” he said. Indeed.

Death

I died first
before I was
two.
My mother drugged me,
fearing for herself.

By five,
I had fallen
for Death.
It caught me once
through the wall
and shook me
dead.

At eight I prayed
to be a cherub.
A sinless martyr
chirping and cheering
for the coming peace.

When I was twelve,
I tumbled down
Mount Mazzeh.

At the foot
of one of its mounds,
dirtied with the dust
of its towering height,
I died.

A year after,
I rolled under
the hind wheels
of my rustling schoolbus.

After my right ear,
my skull was crushed
and its contents
covered the street
in a passing atrocity.

My funeral
marched through
a field of lazy,
overgrown weeds.

I died a few times more
but I lived the lives
I lived before.

Sam Zamrik is a Syrian poet and translator. His poetry and articles have been featured on German outlets such as the WIR MACHEN DAS initiative Weiter Schreiben and the leftist daily newspaper taz. He has performed at the Volksbühne, Haus der Kulturen der Welt, and Humboldt Universität. His debut book of poetry, “Sophistry of Survival” will be published in fall 2022 by Hanser Berlin Verlag. Read more from Sam at samzamrik.com

Poem used with permission.