The Ice Cream Van
How I Cook My Grief: Poems For Palestine
As violence continues to ravage Gaza, Palestinian poets become the voice of heartbreak, writing about the murder of children and memories of empty ice cream trucks under the rubble of lost innocence
The ice cream man cries:
corpses for sale
all around the streets
no grave buys them
the corpses are melting
he cries again: corpses for sale
no answer.
The dogs buy them at bargain prices
they cry out for more.
The ice cream man has promised
he’ll soon refill the van
and give them
new corpses as frosty fresh
as the city.
(Translated by the author and Cristina Viti)
This is how I cook my grief
I pick fresh hearts from the street
The most defeated ones
With nimble fingers, I steal the tears
I fill rusted sardine tins with the smell of sorrow.
Mothers’ glances cling tightly to their eyes
But I snatch them swiftly, because I resemble their children.
In a copper pot,
I boil what I stole
And add blood that hasn't absorbed
And sawdust from a coffin that was meant as the door to his new home
I pour the mixture into my heart
Until it blackens
This is how I cook my grief.
(Translated by Yasmin Zaher)
Short Bio: Batool Abu Akleen is a Palestinian poet and painter whose work transcends borders. At 15, she won the Barjeel Prize for her poignant poem I Didn’t Steal the Cloud. Displaced from Gaza City after October 7, 2023, Batool continues to write and share her powerful poetry, reflecting resilience and displacement. Her poetry has been translated into multiple languages, including Italian and English, and has been published in renowned magazines worldwide. Currently, she serves as the Poet in Residence with Modern Poetry in Translation (MPT). Those poems are part of her forthcoming poetry collection, to be published next year by Tenement Press, England.
Click here to find 바카라's 11 January 2025 issue 'War and Peace.'
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