Elyas ALAVI, Where is Homeland?, 2018, neon. Photo: Christo Crocker

Elyas ALAVI, Where is Homeland?, 2018, neon. Photo: Christo Crocker

 

 Where is Homeland?

The homeland, a wooden table
At which we drank tea
And breathed a sigh of relief
just before the immigration police caught us.

The homeland
An old boat
Adrift on the wild tresses of the Aegean Sea
“Pray that the sea calms down
The clouds calm down
The winds calm down!”
the old captain was saying
just before we danced among the waves.

The homeland
A detention camp in Torbat-e Jam
With high cement walls
With a high barbed wire fence
With long queues
Bread, a letter, shame.

The homeland
A distant café in London
Amidst fog and smoke and darkness
In which people with troubled shadows
And faded, lost eyes
Breathe bitter bitter breaths
And down their cups of sorrow.

Tall-e Siah
Quetta
Istanbul
Nauru
Woomera
The homeland perhaps is a hole in al-Khalil (2)
That waits hungrily for my thirsty lips
Where is the homeland?

 


Torbat-e Jam: A detention camp for Afghan refugees in Iran
Al-Khalil is the name of the Muslim cemetery in Adelaide

 

Nelya Valamanesh reads Where is Homeland?

Nelya stands next to Elyas’s work 𝘋𝘰𝘦𝘴𝘯’𝘵 𝘪𝘵 𝘵𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘣𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘥?, 2020, showing as part of FIELD NOTES at Sauerbier House in Port Noarlunga, curated by fine print magazine.