Palestine
One day the war will end
the leaders will shake hands
the flag will rise up higher than ever
the mother will keep waiting for her martyred son sitting on her doorstep
the woman will keep waiting for her beloved husband to come back
the little boy will wait patiently for his heroic father
the kids will sing
and the men will dance the traditional debke
the women will cook delicious food
the girls will wear their traditional dress
and the boys will take out their hidden keffieh and run to the Aksa mosque
the olive trees will grow, bloom and provide a golden treasure
the season of watermelon will begin
the sea’s waves will embrace Gaza’s sand
the birds will finally fly freely and let out their euphonious melodies
and the sound of bombs will be for ever fogotten
I don’t know who sold Palestine
but I know who paid the price.
#poem
© Fatima
(Inspired by Mahmoud Darwish)
the leaders will shake hands
the flag will rise up higher than ever
the mother will keep waiting for her martyred son sitting on her doorstep
the woman will keep waiting for her beloved husband to come back
the little boy will wait patiently for his heroic father
the kids will sing
and the men will dance the traditional debke
the women will cook delicious food
the girls will wear their traditional dress
and the boys will take out their hidden keffieh and run to the Aksa mosque
the olive trees will grow, bloom and provide a golden treasure
the season of watermelon will begin
the sea’s waves will embrace Gaza’s sand
the birds will finally fly freely and let out their euphonious melodies
and the sound of bombs will be for ever fogotten
I don’t know who sold Palestine
but I know who paid the price.
#poem
© Fatima
(Inspired by Mahmoud Darwish)