God has blessed us with the mind and granted us a conscience ... Is our conscience dead? Or is our mind dormant?

David Oraha

Where are we? … Where’s our Cause? ... Our nation, a nation that bore powerful kings, a nation that doesn’t accept submission and 2600 years bear witness to this? Where are we?
Where are you Assyrians?
Did we forget? Or are we intentionally forgetting?
Do we reflect? Or should we ignore?

Voices are raised praising submission, they’re running to kneel at the ruins of what you have destroyed and are destroying, what you have separate and are still separating, all the stabbing which you have and are still doing, It’s Ashur’s name that you’ve been proud and you boast of, it’s Ashur the land, the embracer of the two rivers Tigris and Euphrates from which you drank the water. You were molded from Ashur’s earth and today you’re dispersed in the world.

Victory is near… Is this true? Is this true? Or are these mere voices which will be erased with the first blow of wind? Isn’t it time for the volcano to emit its lava? We’ve been silent, silent, silent, until this silence almost overwhelmed us and it did overwhelm us. Where are we now? Where are those who used to raise the slogans? Were these slogans impossible to be realized?

Is our conscience dead? Is our mind dormant? Have we lost our way in the paths of this world? Are we tired even before making the first step? Is our silence about a right or rather thousands of rights which were forcibly taken, is that the solution? Is this a legitimate matter? Or should it happen and where is the revolution of minds? Where is the conscience and in what paths is it roaming? Where do we stand from Ashur’s name which we boast and pride ourselves with?

My thoughts are dispersed, and things lost their meaning, tunes went astray playing on the strings… O Nineveh… O Assyrianism…O our civilization…
We are silent and the silence has almost scorched us…
My land has been plundered and my identity distorted.

I Ashur … I Ashur

Is my cry going to be heard? It’s the cry of your parents and grandparents, whose blood quenched the thirst of the mountains, plains, and homeland ground. It’s your land, the land of Ashur, the land of thousands of elderly women, men and children. Let it be a cry for humanity and a stand of a live conscience which doesn’t accept submission. Is my cry going to be heard? I Ashur… I Ashur …

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