Transcription of Some Poems Written by Saïda Menebhi

We walked with our

heads held high, our eyes lost

You spoke of a wonderful world

That would come because we want it.


In this world, you said,

Children will no longer experience misery,

Moms will no longer abandon their babies,

Women will no longer be beaten,

Despised, degraded.


We were walking, again and again

Like crazy and damned,

When we arrived,

Already I was dreaming.

Prison is ugly

You draw it, my child

With black lines

Bars and grids.

You imagine that it is a place without light,

which scares the little ones.


Also, to indicate it

You say it's over there.

And you show with your little finger

A point, a lost corner

That you don't see.


Perhaps the mistress has spoken to you Of hideous prison, Of a reformatory, Where we put the bad guys Who steal the children. 

In your little head

A question then arose:

How and why,

I, who am full of love for you

And all the other children,

Am I there?

Because I want tomorrow, the

prison is no longer there ...

The wind of my country

Blows, howls, rumbles

On the damp earth which it sweeps.


He draws figures,

He engraves a past

Mine, yours, that of everyone.


Its noise reminds me of a symphony

The one you whispered in my ear every night

Before, long ago

Today, tonight, tonight.


Only the imprints of life

come to mind.

And the stubborn rain, the stubborn wind,

Come back like every year,

And bring me back to you,

As far as you know.


Remind me again,

that I have a body, that I have a voice,

that I raise as an offering to you.

Fascist, Fascist, A

thousand times fascist.

A million times,

I would repeat it



I am full.


I am an active volcano,

And my lavas,

On all the fascists of Pinochet,

I want to spit them out.


Fascists and fearful,

If you believe you have us

It's more strength than we have.

When you repress us

The wooden door is insufficient.


So put a wall,

it is entirely admissible

Given your nature.

But shame will be on your foreheads

Tomorrow, when we win.


Words escape me

Like a fire

And burn my lips.

Shout, no longer accept,

You who are there

Behind the wooden door.


We will continue to

fight, to refuse,


to the slaughterhouse.


And our heads,

On the blade,

And never, never

In our eyes


Fear, they will see.


The disease of silence will never

reach us.

You, my sisters

Herds of beasts,

That is what you seem.

And me, hands tied,

Throat tied, nausea takes me,

Of all the fascists and their pawns.


Oh, you who do not understand,

I feel tired, My

shoulders bent

By too much suffering,

Deprivation and repression.


But our thoughts and the desire to fight,

Neither the years of prison,

Nor their wooden door

And their claws,

Will not take them from me.

I will die Marxist-Leninist.

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