Teaching Maps to My Daughter
Blood marks the red borderlines,
of plains that belong to every nation
like terraces in the field!
This is India, and this Pakistan
and this, the great line 'tween
marked by the blood of the Hindus and the Muslims!
This is Germany, and this England,
this Russia, and this Japan.

See this Hiroshima, and Nagasaki
close by devoured by atom bomb!
This the European carcass
terrorized by the ghost of Hitler.
This is America
the land of dollars
the maker of the atom bomb
the peace message.
Everywhere,
red blood demarcates the lines
and men are trapped within,
as are pigeons inside a cage.
My Daughter,
(such a day might come someday)
when, united everyone
hand-in-hand,
arm-in-arm
Negroes, Aryans and the Mongols
Palestinians, Dravidians and the Blacks,
will pour the fills of their eyes,
and wash these lines of blood.
And then,
after a long time –
my daughter, a day might come,
when you will not find the red line
for thousand searches.