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Archive for the ‘Palestine’ Category

In Gaza, children,
you learn that the sky kills
and that houses hurt.
You learn that your blanket is smoke
and breakfast is dirt.

You learn that cars do somersaults
clothes turn red,
friends become statues,
bakers don’t sell bread.

You learn that the night is a gun,
that toys burn
breath can stop,
it could be your turn.

You learn:
if they send you fire
they couldn’t guess:
not just the soldier dies –
it’s you and the rest.

Nowhere to run,
nowhere to go,
nowhere to hide
in the home you know.

You learn that death isn’t life,
the air isn’t bread.

The land is for all – you have the right to be
not dead.
The land is for all – you have the right to be
not dead.
The land is for all – you have the right to be
not dead.
The land is for all -you have the right to be
not dead.

– Michael Rosen

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Palestine


I am not an Arab, I am not a Jew
Abraham is not my Father, Palestine is not my home
But i would fight any man
Who kicked me out of my house
To dwell in a tent
I would fight
To the ends of the earth
Someone who said to me
I want your house
Because my Father lived here
Two thousand years ago
Jets would not stop me
From returning to my home
Uncle Toms would not stop me
Cluster b ombs would not stop me
Bullets i would defy.
No man can take the house of another
And expect to live in peace
There is no peace for thieves
There is no peace for those who m urder
For myths and ancient rituals
Wail at the wall
Settle in ‘Judea’ and ‘Samaria’
But fate awaits you
You will never sleep with peace
You will never walk without listening.
I shall cross the River Jordan
with Justice in my hand
I shall return to Jerusalem
And establish my house of peace
Thus said the Lord.

– By Marvin X

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فلسطينى انا اسمى فلسطينى

نقشت اسمى على كل الميادين
بخط بارز يسمو على العناوين
حروف اسمى
حروف اسمى تلاحقنى تعايشينى تغذينى
تبث النار فى روحى وتنبض فى شراينى
جبال النهر تعرفنى مغاورها وتدرينى
بذلت الطاقة الكبرى وقلت لامتى كونى
صلاح الدين فى اعماق اعماقى ينادينى
وكل عروبتى للثأر للتحرير تدعونى
وراياتي التى طويت على ربوات حطين
وصوت مؤذن الاقصى يهيب بنا اغيثونى
وألافٌ من الاسري وألافٌ المساجين
تنادى الامة الكبرى وتهتف بالملايين
تقول لهم الى القدس اليها قبلة الدينِ
الى حرب تدك الظلم تُزهق روح صهيون
وترفع فى سماء الكون اعلام فلسطين
وتهدر كلمتى تمضى
فلسطينى
فلسطينى
فلسطينى

Palestine , My name is Palestine
I wrote my name at all fields
with a unique font greater than all titles
The letters of my name, the letters of my name, live inside me, feed me, spread the soul and fire inside my body
The mountains of the river, knows me well
I spent all my power and ask my nation help
And Saladin was calling, calling inside me

And my Arabic origin is asking me for freedom and revenge
And those flags which were folded at Hatiin (battle)
And the caller of Al Aqsa Masjid is calling for help
And thousands of prisoners are calling for help
Calling the greater nation and calling for millions
Go to Al Quds(Jerusalem),
to a war where the oppressed are, to stop the injustice of the Zionism, and raise the flag of Palestine
My words will remain the same
Palestine, Palestine, Palestine

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We’ve been like this more than 50 years
Living as prisoners behind the bars of paragraphs
Of agreements that change nothing
We haven’t seen any light, and if we peek between the bars
We see a blue sky and white clouds
In the centre a star reminds me that I’m limited
But no, I’m strong, staying optimistic
You won’t limit my hope by a wall of separatation
And if this barrier comes between me and my land
I’ll still be connected to Palestine
Like an embryo to the umbilical cord
My feet are the roots of the olive tree
Keep on prospering, fathering and renewing branches
Every branch
Grown for peace
Every branch
Under the pressure of occupation
Refusing to give up
So why don’t I have freedom?
Because I refuse to live in slavery.

–dam

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The earth is closing on us, pushing us through the last passage and
we tear off our limbs to pass through.
The earth is squeezing us. I wish we were its wheat so we could die
and live again. I wish the earth was our mother
So she’d be kind to us. I wish we were pictures on the rocks for our
dreams to carry
As mirrors. We saw the faces of those to be killed by the last of us in
the last defence of the soul.
We cried over their children’s feast. We saw the faces of those who’ll
throw our children
Out of the windows of this last space. Our star will hang up mirrors.
Where should we go after the last frontiers? Where should the birds
fly after the last sky?
Where should the plants sleep after the last breath of air? We will
write our names with scarlet steam.
We will cut off the hand of the song to be finished by our flesh.
We will die here, here in the last passage. Here and here our blood
will plant it’s olive tree

– mahmud darwish (translated abdullah al udhari)

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