"Moonchildren's Lament"

"In Gerudo Valley"

Summer Farah

Summer Farah is a Palestinian American poet, editor, and critic. She organizes with the Radius of Arab American Writers. Her chapbook I could die today & live again is forthcoming from Game Over Books.

“These two poems are part of a chapbook project in conversation with, responding to, and inspired by The Legend of Zelda franchise. The Legend of Zelda games often straddle two worlds — land and sky, past and present, and so on. My project positions the two realms as Mine and The Game’s. Much like a player of the franchise, the reader oscillates between the two to access the larger arc. My intention is to take seriously the themes of empire and resistance, loss and grief, and so on.”

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“Everyone has gone away, haven’t they?”
— Moon Child, Majora’s Mask

     I am so small in front of a clock tower / I am so small under the moon

     It is dangerous to go alone / a prophecy as old as girlhood

     And so it is night / and we are running

     like we have something / to run from

     Hear the crackle from A’s hands / sparks like magic

     Violence awes me / when shrouded by moonlight

     Feet hit ground harder / than the evening warrants

     I will always remember cold flush / weak knees practicing for the worst

     There were so many nights after this night / when the world ended

     We cried when the sun set early / we cried when our friends went away

     We played music until calluses grew / until we knew who would not return

     It is dangerous to go alone / there are nights I ask whispers to come true

     Violence awes me / when achieved by moonlight

     I am so small in front of a clock tower / I am so small under the moon

women stand tall
henna shining in the sunlight
& find a husband

women sell watermelon
along city fountains
curved sword in hand

when myths come alive
thunder crackles
women control the heavens
in order to protect our sands

with coins adorning their ears
women leave home
& never return.

in the desert
women die
from beasts piloted by no one.

in holy spaces
we adorn bodies in oil
with broken hearts
our trees our waters
even the lost join the lament

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