A Mother in a Refugee CampNo Madonna and Child could touchH

A Mother in a Refugee Camp

No Madonna and Child could touch

Her tenderness for a son

She soon would have to forget...

The air was heavy with odors of diarrhea,

Of unwashed children with washed-out ribs

And dried-up bottoms waddling in labored steps

Behind blown-empty bellies. Other mothers there

Had long ceased to care, but not this one:

She held a ghost-smile between her teeth,

and in her eyes the memory

Of a mother’s pride... She had bathed him

And rubbed him down with bare palms.

She took from their bundle of possessions

A broken comb and combed

The rust-colored hair left on his skull

And then — humming in her eyes — began carefully

[to part it.

In their former life this was perhaps

A little daily act of no consequence

Before his breakfast and school; now she did it

Like putting flowers on a tiny grave.

ACHEBE, C. Collected Poems. New York: Anchor Books, 2004.

O escritor nigeriano Chinua Achebe traz uma reflexão sobre a situação dos refugiados em um cenário pós-guerra civil em seu país. Essa reflexão é construída no poema por meio da representação de uma mãe, explorando a(s)

impressões sensoriais experimentadas no ambiente.

demonstração de orgulho por não precisar pedir doações.

descrições artísticas detalhadas de uma obra conhecida.

aceitação de um diagnóstico de doença terminal do filho.

consternação ao visitar o túmulo do filho recém-falecido.

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