پاریس ئەتۆش دەستت سوورکرد بە خوێنی کچی کورد

Paris its your turn now to be red-handed with Kurdish girls blood

By Kamal Mirawdely

Translated from the original Kurdish



Oh, Paris, its your turn now!
You turned my eyes into a red stream
And my soul into a black-clad stature
You betrayed Helen

And killed Sakina, the tranquillity of heart and mind,
May you be sacrificed to Fidan hundred times,
With your cold feeling and empty heart!
Layla was a new fianc
She was passionately in love with Qandil
But with the lure of beauty and liberty
The sacredness of love and happy dreams

You attracted these three fairies to yourself
Treacherously let them settle on your lap
And then called upon the slaughterers
They cut their heads off like sheep


Paris you are still the Bastille for Kurds
Without care, concern and principles
How can I have an iota of happiness and joy
In this city again
Everywhere I look
I see Layla with her blood-covered complexion and deep groans.
Paris, Paris!!

It was your turn
To redden your hands with Kurdish girls blood
And turn my soul into a black-clad stature.

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Notes:
In Greek mythology, Paris was the young and beautiful prince of Troy whose love affair with Helen caused the Trojan war.
Sakina, Fidan and Layla are the first names of the three Kurdish female PKK activists assassinated in Paris on 10th January in the Kurdish Information Centre in Paris.
Qandil is a formidable mountain range in Kurdistan where PKK freedom-fighters are based.

The Bastille was a fortress in Paris, used as a state prison by the kings of France. It was stormed by a crowd on 14 July 1789 in the French Revolution.