Afghanistan: Farah Province Balabluk District: Shewan village
Tank fire overwhelms the Soviet plane.
There are children, children young and old.
They are killed. So many, so many babies gone.
Breast milk is meant to feed and keep the children safe.
There are mothers, mothers young and old.
They cry. So hard, such sound.
The blood. The will of God and the sky.
The mother calls for her baby. She stares, her eyes watching everything.
Her baby remains opaque.
Dark night is everywhere, silent, secret.
Two women and two men and three children, leave Shewan for Iran.
They travel, lost in the dark night, silent, secret.
Afghanistan: Farah Province: Deheshk village
The eyes and minds of a bright future stare across the border.
No one knows his destiny.
The driver uses a white light. Voices. Soviet tanks. Helicopters.
Voices, like monsters in the desert. Clanging chains.
Faces red with anger.
Questions, day and night. Questions for the runaways.
Answers—are they lies or truths.
Oh Iran! We are your refugees.
Iran: Mashhad Province: Shamshabad village
The refugee camp is dry. There is little water.
Hungry, thirsty, homeless, poor.
The man hopes to live again.
Red sleeves up, he builds a house of mud and straw for his family.
A child born.
Away from war, she is unfamiliar with misery.
Destiny awaits, once again.
AP Photo/Emilio Morenatti