Remember whenever you pray at night
Millions chewing rocks as bread,
Walking on the bridge of the wounds,
Wearing their skin and dying with dignity.
Remember before you sleep on any pillow:
Does he sleep he whose country was slaughtered?
If I die with dignity, my death shall be my birth.
Remember… Remember
My heart aches for the wounded seagull angels
Whom I behold returning from schools,
Kissed on the foreheads by minarets and churches,
They wrote you this call:
Behind the bars of the embargo, my homeland lay wounded
Where tens of children everyday fall
How long… How long will this devastation last?
Their conscience has dried up…
and never dried up the tears of the innocents
Unmoved were they by this call,
Which softened even the angles of the sky.
Their conscience has dried up…
their conscience has dried up.
Translated by Istabraq Rafea
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
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