Today I was at a international conference about Gaza.
I wrote a poem in Modern-Arabic and English so I presented it today.
Here’s the poem, Arabic is translated:
I wish The Peace will bring if He wills peace and remove hate and suffering.
I wish that one day the people of Gaza will bow their heads down, not for bombs but to pray.
I wish compassion will blossom in the heart of people, I wish goodness will bring (compassion) together with the most beautiful feelings.
I pray for peace and happiness, for love and kindness but above all for mercy, compassion and steadfastness.
I pray to The Healer to heal the heart, the soul and the body that suffer and I wish for them love and faith until forever.
They say that the pain of words are worse than pain caused by the sword, they don’t see the world behind those letters.
Letters that people use to write in papers and online, inventing lies and accepting terror as if it is normal and all fine.
Night and day, they cry out of fear. Morning and evening they keep thinking of death that’s probably very near.
They wrote happiness in their heart for Allah did not write it in their fate. But they do not despair nor cry because paradise was written for them the day they were born.
Innocent people but martyrs that’s what they are, instead of turning hope into despair, they firmly believe that God wouldn’t give them all this if they couldn’t bear.
All of them suffer differently, one cries with the eyes, the other in pain he dies and others… with stones they stand up for their rights and arise.
I met this sir called Yehuda Shaul, he spoke about his time as a soldier; how he threatened innocent people and how his heart only got colder.
I cried when he answered a question about children and elderly, who cares about them he said; they’re all in the same box and being Arab is what they shared.
From dust to dust and so they know that what they call a tear, for Allah it’s a prayer therefore nothing they should fear.
May The Merciful grant them patience, acceptance for what happens to them and faith.
With a voice unheard they scream, with eyes that don’t sleep they often dream and with a memory that doesn’t forget they fight for self-esteem.
(Below isn’t recorded but part of what I read)
Alif, laam, mim (letters that are undiscovered in the qur’an), that’s exactly how they feel; undiscovered and unexplained.
Therefore I just hope that one day every oppressor will end up in the same place as Fir’awn (Pharaoh) and Haman (his mate) for that’s exactly what they deserve, so let’s end this poem together and say, pray and wish: ‘’Amen’’