My name is “7anzalah” (Hanzalah)

My name is “7anzalah”  (Hanzalah)

Translated by: Adib S. Kawar

Dear reader permit me to present myself… I, God forbids from the word “I”…
My name is 7anzalah, My father’s name is not necessary, My mother… her name is Nakbah and my younger sister’s name is Fatimah…
My foot’s size, I don’t know… because I am always barefooted…
Date of birth: I was born on June 5th 1967…
Nationality” I am not a Palestinian, not Jordanian, not a Kuwaiti, not a Lebanese, not an Egyptian, not anybody… etc… In brief I don’t have an identity and I don’t intend to get nationalized… Simply I am an Arab and that is all…
By accident I met the cartoonist Naji… Hating his art because he cannot draw, and explained why… because whenever he drew about a country its embassy complains… guidance. information and censorship warn…
He told me all people are nice… they became angles… They couldn’t be better… thus... I want to draw… I want to live… I want to find a job other than this…
I told him you are a coward and ran away from the battle field… and I was harsh with him, and when I soothed him… and introduced myself that I am a vigilant Arab who knows all languages and speaks all dialects. associates with all people. the good, bad, nice and the crock… all kinds of people… Those who behaves well and or so so… And I told him that I am ready to draw a cartoon every day for him, and explained to him that I don’t fear anybody except God, and who ever shall be angry let him go and tile the see (do whatever he likes)… And told him that those who want air conditioned houses and offices, a car and what they want to cook every day… and don’t think of Palestine…..
Dear reader… I am sorry for writing such a long letter… Don’t think that I wrote so much to fill space… and that on my behalf and behalf my cartoonist friend, I always thank you… and that is all…
7anzalah

This text was written by Naji Al-Ali to introduce 7Aanzalah
Naji al-Ali

Naji Salim al-Ali (Arabic: ناجي سليم العلي‎, born c. 1938 – 29 August 1987) was a Palestinian cartoonist, noted for the political criticism of Israel in his works. He drew over 40,000 cartoons, which often reflected Palestinian and Arab public opinion and were sharply critical commentaries on Palestinian and Arab politics and political leaders.^[1] He is perhaps best known as creator of the character Handala, pictured in his cartoons as a young witness of the satirized policy or event depicted,^[1] and who has since become an icon of Palestinian defiance. On 22 July 1987, while outside the London offices of al-Qabas, a Kuwaiti newspaper for which he drew political caricatures^[2][1], Naji al-Ali was shot in the face and mortally wounded.^[3] Naji al-Ali died five weeks later in Charing Cross Hospital.

The Zionist entity didn’t deny that it was who assassinated him

A Child's Christmas in Palestine

A Child's Christmas in Palestine
By Genevieve Cora Fraser

A child's wish for peace
A  Nativity play in the heart
Of suffering played out by children
Joyous, releasing balloons
Hopes for peace as they marched
One thousand strong in their beliefs
In Bethlehem, they gathered
From across the West Bank
With prayerful wishes for Gaza's
Children Jerusalem's too embarking
On life's journey crossed by suffering
The Nativity scene played out
Too soon the crucifixion
Walls and checkpoints
Helicopter gunships and drones
On high where angels fear to tread
They are led to endure as millions
Before them since Al Nakba's
Dread played out past and present
The future rests in the hands
And hope of the children
Remembering Christ's birth
And those born
To suffer in Palestine

The Yelling of Pride

From her book: "The Yelling of Pride"
By: Nuha Zurub Kawar

Translated by: Adib S. Kawar

I am the daughter of the Galilee…

The daughter of Christ’s Nazareth…

The daughter of the towering Galilee over the high hills…

In my ribs…

The eastern stars meeting grandfathers’ dreams…

From here I kiss them all…

To make the impossible, they rose…

The land they ruled and the sea they waded…

Then like eagles they died…

I am the daughter of the Galilee…

Different from all the world’s women I look…

From childhood… I feel I am…

The pride… glory… and grandeur…

Do you love??? I was asked…

I replied…

How men without a homeland would women they love???

I am a woman that myself I don’t fault..

And if once the heart betrays me…

I fight…!

Peace on you… I say…

Peace to the towering hills…

Peace for the homeland’s mothers…

and for the youngsters before dawn…

*** * ***

An Arab I am…

Pure is my blood… proud is my soul…

From the high mountains, the woman I am…

A fountain at the mountain’s foot I am…

A Nazarene I am..

My mother… my sister..

My daughter… and my son too…

My blood’s path is frankincense… echo…

Trills and shrills I am…

A people’s song…

Howling in a racist grip…

******

An Arab I am…

It hurts me…

To vagabond my people…

Killing my eagles…

Demolishing my bridges…

by dumb hands…

*** * ***

An Arab I am…

A Nazarene I am…

A descendent of a proud and disdainful people…

Aping the sky…

With a clear clean face…

My people’s history…

a record of pride it is…

my land my home…

my people’s stumps…

like a beacon…

shall always remain…

*** * ***

An Arab I am…

And admonition I have…

O mother I learned…

The love of my land’s soil…

Arabs I admonished…

Admonition passes

The killing of the young…

The war prisoner’s fetters…

With admonition I am bore…

*** * ***

An Arab I am…

Pure are my roots… proud are my branches…

My head I shall rise… up to the sky…

My bier I shall make… of pride’s roses…

My fragrance I shall spray… all around…

Everywhere to… is dear…

So as my scent… near me it remains…

To my people it reminds… that pride I am…

And my roots… the sky they reach…

That here I am… the plants… glory… and loftiness…

I live… I die… and light remains…

Nuha Zurub Kawar, was born in Nazareth, Palestine, her father, Munib Amin Zurub, was of Lebanese origin, he completed his secondary school in Sahyoun school in Jerusalem, and higher education in the American University of Beirut, which was called at the time "The Syrian Protestant College".
Her mother is Izat Salim Kawar, a Palestinian from Nazareth, who is the granddaughter of Tannous Kawar, (The great grandfather of Adib Kawar) the founder and first president of the municipality of Nazareth.
Nuha is the wife of Bahjat Iskandar Kawar, who is a graduate of Haifa University, where he specialized in the Arabic language, and they have four children, Sahar, Dr. Iskandar, Marwah and Sany who are all university graduates.

She wrote for several newspapers, magazines and broadcasting stations early in her life under the name of “The daughter of Nazareth”. She gave many lectures in the country and abroad. She worked for many international voluntary organizations. Her name was registered in the international record, and “The American Organization for Biographies” from which she got a certificate of “Outstanding International Leaders”, she also got in 2002 from International Biographical Center" the certificate of “The Golden Record for Achievements", as well as a certificate of esteem from Cambridge University, and a certificate of excellence from the minister of Sciences, culture and sports. Dutch Television shot a film about her life and achievements. She also participated in a documentary film that was shown in the local museum and around the world.

She wrote many poems in Hebrew, and many of her poems were translated into English.
Composer Ishaq Abu Al-Izz composed the music for some of her poems which were sang on the largest theaters of the country.
     
Posts of the writer:

·         Chair of Women’s Organization in Nazareth N.W.O.
·         Chair of the Women’s Foundation for World Peace W.F.W.P.
·         Member of the International Voluntary work in Switzerland
·         Member of the international executive committee for religious brotherhood
·         Member of the executive committee for Palestinian Writers
·         Member of the International Society of Partisans of Literature

Works of the writer:

·         “Hitaf Al-Kubria” “Cheers of Pride” a poetry collection
·         “Wahj Al-Yara3” “The Glow of the Pen” a poetry collection
·         “Shajarat Al-Majd” “The Tree of Glory”: a poetic play
·         “Al-Shari3 Al-Ghadib” “The Angry Street” A book for children
·         “Tarikh Annasirah” “History of Nazareth”, which is one of the most important books that was published about this period as critics wrote, which is an encyclopedia that talks about the history that little was written about, it also talks about the occupation of the city of Nazareth and its sufferings during the occupation and the dark periods and ages that it passed through.

She also wrote many books for children, poems, memories about the war on Iraq, and a ribbon of memories and the tales of the Sibat (A sibat is an arched alley, one of he most famous sibats in Nazareth is the Kawar family sibat) all these are ready for publication

A Salute to Al-Quds (Jerusalem)

A Salute to Al-Quds

(Jerusalem)

By: Nuha Zurub Kawar

Translated by: Adib S. Kawar

In spite of anxiety, sorrows and subjugation

O you Al-Quds we salute you, and defend you

In spite of violence, privation and the jailer

O you Al-Quds… we redeem you

In spite  of oppression, insurgence and bars

O Al-Quds… we call you

And all the eyes’ tears

It is not enough to bewail you

And all the  oppressor’s intrigues

Amazed we are of your defiance

*** * ***

In spite of oppression and sorrows

our churches and mosques are still

praying with the break of dawn

chanting at your heights

And the boy’s blood

O you Al-Quds… roaring in your lands

and in spite of shame and oppression

Years supporting us shall return

 silencing the oppressor’s voice

And expose tyrants’ lies 

O Al-Quds and God’s eye

in spite of restrain, violence in spite of blood

shall continue guarding you

*** * ***

O you Al-Quds… O you tears in the eyes

a day has come to weep for us

O you eternal dream

all the time… grieving and enervate us

and you our honorable Al-Quds

did our churches and mosques chant

And forgot our sorrows

*** * ***

Misery’s wreckage unified us

and broke our past age

and you became

O you Al-Quds shame distract us… like fires like ember

like blood’s sea… drowns us

And in our streams it flows

*** * ***

Stupidity to be driven today

Between shame… under lowliness

Between grudge’s streets 

Rusted did our swords become?

Stupidity today to be driven

When sorrows join us

If we forget a land of ours

shall not forget

shall not forget yielding in us

*** * ***

O Al-Quds… o you a sea of sorrows drowned us

O you a land that on faiths unified us

its news we didn’t hide

Love we buried in his sides

Patience die sometimes

And burdened us with silence’s chains

Weeping and discourse

Heart’s grief… orphans… and widows

And tears’ river wounds us

And with memory enlivens us

*** * ***

O Al-Quds… o you a life we conveyed

Sorrows we communed

Eternity and days we lived

O you Al-Quds our past we didn’t feel

Our mosques wailed

Our churches slept

Verses from the gospels and the Quran

their chanting faded

and like us died

O you Al-Quds

With things we promised them with things we knew

and our intentions they didn’t know

A banner over our heads we shall raise

And gather all our secrets

*** * ***

0 you Al-Quds

Sorrows we witnessed

In dreams… in days

In the glory of lit lanterns

In the world we quenched chastity’s thirst

To the learned… to the ignorant

In the city’s heart

their tyranny sickness became

With our hands we buried

and in yards on it we stepped

no trace for it we left

and with pride we quashed…

A prophet on the wood of the cross

with thorns we weighed him

and at dawn we disavowed him

O Al-Quds life is gone

In the play grounds of oppression

O Al-Quds suffering we lost

Between the grave yards of the beloved

how many an infant we without home we forgot

O my country life collapsed

would its memory return???

Nuha Zurub Kawar, was born in Nazareth, Palestine, her father, Munib Amin Zurub, was of Lebanese origin, he completed his secondary school in Sahyoun school in Jerusalem, and higher education in the American University of Beirut, which was called at the time "The Syrian Protestant College".
Her mother is Izat Salim Kawar, a Palestinian from Nazareth, who is the granddaughter of Tannous Kawar, (The great grandfather of Adib Kawar) the founder and first president of the municipality of Nazareth.
Nuha is the wife of Bahjat Iskandar Kawar, who is a graduate of Haifa University, where he specialized in the Arabic language, and they have four children, Sahar, Dr. Iskandar, Marwah and Sany who are all university graduates.

She wrote for several newspapers, magazines and broadcasting stations early in her life under the name of “The daughter of Nazareth”. She gave many lectures in the country and abroad. She worked for many international voluntary organizations. Her name was registered in the international record, and “The American Organization for Biographies” from which she got a certificate of “Outstanding International Leaders”, she also got in 2002 from International Biographical Center" the certificate of “The Golden Record for Achievements", as well as a certificate of esteem from Cambridge University, and a certificate of excellence from the minister of Sciences, culture and sports. Dutch Television shot a film about her life and achievements. She also participated in a documentary film that was shown in the local museum and around the world.

She wrote many poems in Hebrew, and many of her poems were translated into English.
Composer Ishaq Abu Al-Izz composed the music for some of her poems which were sang on the largest theaters of the country.
      
Posts of the writer:

·         Chair of Women’s Organization in Nazareth N.W.O.
·         Chair of the Women’s Foundation for World Peace W.F.W.P.
·         Member of the International Voluntary work in Switzerland
·         Member of the international executive committee for religious brotherhood
·         Member of the executive committee for Palestinian Writers
·         Member of the International Society of Partisans of Literature

Works of the writer:

·         “Hitaf Al-Kubria” “Cheers of Pride” a poetry collection
·         “Wahj Al-Yara3” “The Glow of the Pen” a poetry collection
·         “Shajarat Al-Majd” “The Tree of Glory”: a poetic play
·         “Al-Shari3 Al-Ghadib” “The Angry Street” A book for children
·         “Tarikh Annasirah” “History of Nazareth”, which is one of the most important books that was published about this period as critics wrote, which is an encyclopedia that talks about the history that little was written about, it also talks about the occupation of the city of Nazareth and its sufferings during the occupation and the dark periods and ages that it passed through.

She also wrote many books for children, poems, memories about the war on Iraq, and a ribbon of memories and the tales of the Sibat (A sibat is an arched alley, one of he most famous sibats in Nazareth is the Kawar family sibat) all these are ready for publication

Recital of Words

Recital of Words

By: Nuha Zurub Kawar

Translated by: Adib S. Kawar

Words with pride dance when I write them

and sends thanks a melody to its creator

letters magically fall like a shadow

on my pads to beautify them

wished they speak to hear them

narrate peoples tales that I used to

as if life crept into its gardens

then spirit become roses on its hillocks

in hardly heard whispering she talked to me

to awaken in me a love that in me it lives

with longing I crept even I could hug

and kiss the ground even confide to it

I wish a king I were and craving prompts me

To relate love singing in its rhymes

 with ecstasy he exhilarates for warbling enraptures him

he sang singing entrances

singing is soliloquy with God

we astounds the world with a letter that I was noting

on lines that I feared ink shall innervate it

the tears he sheds are black

 extracted secrets from my heart and revealed

Nuha Zurub Kawar, was born in Nazareth, Palestine, her father, Munib Amin Zurub, was of Lebanese origin, he completed his secondary school in Sahyoun school in Jerusalem, and higher education in the American University of Beirut, which was called at the time "The Syrian Protestant College".
Her mother is Izat Salim Kawar, a Palestinian from Nazareth, who is the granddaughter of Tannous Kawar, (The great grandfather of Adib Kawar) the founder and first president of the municipality of Nazareth.
Nuha is the wife of Bahjat Iskandar Kawar, who is a graduate of Haifa University, where he specialized in the Arabic language, and they have four children, Sahar, Dr. Iskandar, Marwah and Sany who are all university graduates.

She wrote for several newspapers, magazines and broadcasting stations early in her life under the name of “The daughter of Nazareth”. She gave many lectures in the country and abroad. She worked for many international voluntary organizations. Her name was registered in the international record, and “The American Organization for Biographies” from which she got a certificate of “Outstanding International Leaders”, she also got in 2002 from International Biographical Center" the certificate of “The Golden Record for Achievements", as well as a certificate of esteem from Cambridge University, and a certificate of excellence from the minister of Sciences, culture and sports. Dutch Television shot a film about her life and achievements. She also participated in a documentary film that was shown in the local museum and around the world.

She wrote many poems in Hebrew, and many of her poems were translated into English.
Composer Ishaq Abu Al-Izz composed the music for some of her poems which were sang on the largest theaters of the country.
   
Posts of the writer:

·         Chair of Women’s Organization in Nazareth N.W.O.
·         Chair of the Women’s Foundation for World Peace W.F.W.P.
·         Member of the International Voluntary work in Switzerland
·         Member of the international executive committee for religious brotherhood
·         Member of the executive committee for Palestinian Writers
·         Member of the International Society of Partisans of Literature

Works of the writer:

·         “Hitaf Al-Kubria” “Cheers of Pride” a poetry collection
·         “Wahj Al-Yara3” “The Glow of the Pen” a poetry collection
·         “Shajarat Al-Majd” “The Tree of Glory”: a poetic play
·         “Al-Shari3 Al-Ghadib” “The Angry Street” A book for children
·         “Tarikh Annasirah” “History of Nazareth”, which is one of the most important books that was published about this period as critics wrote, which is an encyclopedia that talks about the history that little was written about, it also talks about the occupation of the city of Nazareth and its sufferings during the occupation and the dark periods and ages that it passed through.

She also wrote many books for children, poems, memories about the war on Iraq, and a ribbon of memories and the tales of the Sibat (A sibat is an arched alley, one of he most famous sibats in Nazareth is the Kawar family sibat) all these are ready for publication

Samah Sabawi – Peace Talks

Samah Sabawi – Peace Talks

Posted: 25 Sep 2009 05:11 AM PDT

Let's talk
Let's negotiate
Let's have a conference, a summit, a debate
A multifaith dialogue to eliminate hate
They'll call us men of peace
And after our love fest
We can issue a joint release
Of how we talk

Let's talk

But not about ethnic cleansing
Forget Dier Yassin
Don't speak of apartheid
Or the destruction of Jennin
Be blind to the pain in Gaza
The hunger, the disease
The rubble, the fires
The uprooted trees
Sewerage floods and darkness
Drones and the Siege
Most of all
DON'T MENTION THE RIGHTS OF REFUGEES
When we talk

Let's talk
Let our words float in the air
Devoid of meaning or clarity
We'll establish our own facts on the ground
And you will be paid your salary
Never before has talking of peace
Caused so much damage and agony
Yet still we talk

So let's talk
let's negotiate

We can have a conference, a summit, a debate
A multifaith dialogue to eliminate hate
We'll shake hands and smile
And make the six o'clock news
For supporting the peace process
Between Arabs and Jews
And we will only talk

 

SONG FOR A PALESTINIAN CHILD

SONG  FOR A  PALESTINIAN CHILD

Dr. Mustafa Kamal Sherwani

January,30,2009

I am a Palestinian child. I am a Palestinian child.

People think, I am meek and mild.

I  was  born in the midst of fire,

Coffin on the body is my attire;

I can face everything, dark and dire,

The time fails to sink me in its mire.

I am a Palestinian child. I am a Palestinian child.

People think, I am meek and mild.
Always ready for  bullets is my chest,

The bombs can never dampen my zest;

My blood is meant for my country's best,

Only in the grave, I shall take my rest.

I am a Palestinian child. I am a Palestinian child

People think, I am meek and mild.

I aspire  for  peace , have love for  all,

I want to demolish the religion's wall;

When the world is  weeping on my fall,

I must  also try to rise  high and tall .

I am a Palestinian child. I am a Palestinian child

People think, I am meek and mild.

Playing with death, is my ordinary game,

For me , earth and sky are all the same;

I am a violent  storm, no power can tame,

My enemy will suffer a lasting shame.

I am a Palestinian child. I am a Palestinian child .

People think, I am meek and mild.

Desire for freedom makes me wild,

I am a Palestinian child. I am a Palestinian child

To Love a Palestinian Woman

To Love a Palestinian Woman

By: Ehab Lotayef 

Translated into Arabic by: Adib S. Kawar

When you love a Palestinian woman,
the essence of resistance seeps into your existence;
you comprehend
the meaning of persistence.

In her eyes you may see
residues of a tear,
but never a sign of fear.

When you love a Palestinian woman,
the essence of resistance seeps into your existence;
you comprehend
the meaning of persistence.

In her eyes you may see   
residues of a tear,
but never a sign of fear.

When you love a Palestinian woman,
your heart is tuned
to the beat of a heart
that can never forget.

When you love a Palestinian woman
you love every wave
that kisses the shores of her land,
every olive tree in Galilee,
every particle of salt
in the Dead Sea.

When you love a Palestinian woman,
you love a smile
mysteriously mixed with pain unknown to others;
and a laugh that was choked
when the land was separated from its faithful lovers.

When you love a Palestinian woman
you love a spirit
that inherited the will to stand,
and eyes
that terrify guards at check-points,
in a way no man can.

How can any man love
but a Palestinian woman?

" To Love a Palestinian Woman" is written by an Egyptian Canadian poet who lives in Montreal. This man was married to a Palestinian woman, but he got a divorce. What is interesting is that he married a Jewish woman. But then, after his second marriage, he wrote this poem "

The Land

The Land

By Mouein Bsaiso

Translated from Arabic by: Adib S. Kawar

Land surprises me, that trees

Arms and the moon it hides

Circulars it prints

O you star in the Galilee

A fig tree in Al-Khalil*

“Yajis” in between branches it hides

In my ribs a printing press you hide

and you cyprus trees in Al-Quds**

circulars walk

birds walk

streets walk

printing presses walk

windows on eyelids walk

new letters

Land Day poster (1984) by Abdel Rahman Al Muzain

Between me and Jericho a poem

On my hand’s palm a newspaper Nablus prints

Land surprises me, that stones

fight regimes

whose guns are bridled

Land surprises me,

That maids’ hand palms

Mirrors are

and martyr’s hand palms

are as big as the sky

land surprises me

O you rose in a book

soil’s peace

prophets reading it teachs

prophets writing it teaches

soil’s peace, cloud’s peace

night’s birds pass

grapevines’ butterflies remain

fire it doesn’t kindle in memory

and in Nazareth barricades remain

land surprises me

my hand palm’s fingers

 school’s pencils in Rafah

and a child’s colors on Gaza’s shore

 Akka*** they paint

And on his hand palm the Carmel he paints

And on my hand palm Al-Qastal**** he paints

To announce his first strike

Land surprises me

My palm’s fingers these are

A child’s brush in Amman

The phase’s face he erased

and paints our Palestinian future’s face

pencils of a school in the south,

And a school’s pencils in the mountain

In its hand Lebanon had a spike

In its hand Lebanon had a bomb

And Lebanon new wheat it grinds

And Lebanon new bread it kneads

And Lebanon feeds a new land

And between me and Jericho a poem

And Nablus prints on my hand a newspaper

Land surprises me

A child on Gaza’s palm

Painting a cedar

And O your Cyprus trees in Al-Quds

On branches birds walk

its first strike it announces

pamphlets on eyelids walk

and its first strike it announces

and reads its No. 1 proclamation

and I walk

my books I carry and walk

my child’s pencils I  carry and walk

my mother’s picture I carry and walk

my home’s picture I carry and walk

and walk

and walk

and walk

the tree’s proclamation I recite,

the stone’s proclamation I recite,

the moon’s proclamation I recite

and the barricades’ proclamation I recite

in every street…

I am for terrorism…

The day is coming: Poems of Palestine Volume 1

4 Apr 2009 ... I am with terrorism if it will free the Messiah, Jesus of Nazareth, .... Translated: Adib S. Kawar. Mid-East Realities & The Committee On ...

I am for terrorism…

  

  

AUTHOR:  Nizar Qabbani
Illustrated by Ben Heine

Translated by  Adib S. Kawar.

We are accused of terrorism…

If we defend a rose… a woman…

And an infallible poem…

And the blueness of the sky…

A homeland that has no more…

Water or air…

And no tent… or a she-camel…

Nor black coffee…

We are accused of terrorism…

If we courageously defend…

“Balkis’” black hair…

“Maisoon’s” lips…

“Hind”… “Daad”…

Or “Lubna” and “Rabab”…

And a rain of black “kohl”…

Falling like inspiration from eyelashes!!

You shall not find with me…

A secret poem…

A secret language…

Nor a secret book that I imprison behind closed doors…

And I don’t have a poem…

Walking the streets… wearing ”hijab”…

We are accused of terrorism…

If we write about the leftovers of our homeland…

Luxated… disjoined…ragged…

Its stump dispersed…

A homeland searching for its name…

And a people without a name…

A homeland that lost its old great poems…

Except these of “Al-Khansaa”…

A home land that lost its red… blue… or yellow freedom…

A homeland that…

Forbids us to buy a newspaper…

Hear news-casts…

A homeland that denies its birds to chirp…

A homeland…

Whose writers write…

On the wind because of fear…

A homeland…

That is like poetry in our country…

It is of forsaken words…

Extemporaneous…

Imported…

With a foreign face and tongue…

Has no beginning…

No end…

Has no relation with its people… or the land…

Or the deadlock of mankind!!

About a homeland…

Walking to peace negotiations…

Without dignity…

Barefooted..

About a homeland…

Whose men micturated on themselves because of fear…

Only women are left!!

Salt in our eyes…

Salt… on our lips…

Or in our words…

Is it dryness in our souls…

Was inherited from Beni Qahtan??

There is no more a “Mouaawieh” in our nation…

Nor “Abu Sufian”…

No body is left to say (NO)…

To those who surrendered our homes… our land…

Made of our radiant history…

A shop!!

There is no more a poem in our life…

That did not lose its virginity…

In the bed of the sultan…

We are used to ignominy…

What is left of a man…

If he gets used to disgrace??

I look in the book of history…

For “Osama bin Munqiz”…

For “Akbah Bin Nafaa”…

For “Omar”… for “Hamzeh”…

For “Khaled” marching” to Damascus…

For “Al-Mutasim Billah”…

To save our women from savage captivity…

From blazing fires…

I look for the man of the end of time…

But I see only frightened cats in darkness…

Dreaded for their lives…

From the dominion of mice…

Are they plagued with national blindness…

Or colorblindness??

We are accused of terrorism…

If we refuse death…

By the bulldozers of "Israel"…

Digging  in our soil… Our history…Our Gospels…

Our Qur’an…

The remnants of our prophets…

If this is our crime

How beautiful is terrorism…

We are accused of terrorism…

If we refuse our extinction…

By Mongols… Zionists… Barbarians…

If we throw a stone on a window of the Security Council…

Seized by the Czars of our time…

…

We are accused of terrorism…

If we refuse to…

Extend our hand to…

America…

Against human cultures…

Which is without a culture…

Against human civilization…

Which is without a civilization…

America is a gigantic building…

Without walls…

We are accused of terrorism…

If we refuse an epoch…

In which America became…

Conceited… rich…powerful…

A sworn translator…

From Hebrew…

We are accused of terrorism…

If we throw a rose…

To Jerusalem…

To Hebron…

To Gaza…

To Nazareth…

If we carry bread and water…

To the besieged Trojans…

We are accused of terrorism…

If we raise our voices…

Against our isolationist rulers…

Against all those who changed their saddles…

And changed from unionists to hirelings…

We are accused of terrorism…

If we committed the profession of culture…

If we read a book of jurisdiction and politics…

If we call our God…

If we read “Sorat Al-Fateh”…

And listen to a Friday sermon…

We commit terrorism…

We are accused of terrorism…

If we defend our land…

And the dignity of its soil…

If we revolt against the extortion of people…

Our extortion..

If we protect our last palm tree in our desert…

And the last star in our sky…

And the last letters in our names…

And the last drop of milk in our mother’s breasts…

If this is our crime…

How wonderful is terrorism…

I am a terrorist…

If terrorism could save me…

From the immigrants of Russia…

Romania… Hungary…and Poland…

Who settled in Palestine on our shoulders…

To steal the minarets of Jerusalem…

The gate of “Al-Aqsa”…

And ornaments and domes…

I am for terrorism…

If I could liberate Christ…

The Virgin Mary… and the holy city…

From the Ambassadors of death and devastation…

Yesterday the national street was in our land…

Winning like an Arabian horse…

And our squares were rivers flooding with vigor and pride…

After “Oslo”…

We lost our teeth…

And become a people plagued with deafness and blindness??

I am for terrorism…

If terrorism could liberate my people…

From tyrants and tyranny…

And save men from the savageness of men…

…I am for terrorism

If it could save me from Zionist Czars…

And Roman Caesars…

I am for terrorism…

If this new world…

Is equally split between…

America… and “Israel”…

I am for terrorism…

As long as this new world…

Classifies us as wolves…

I am for terrorism…

If the American Congress…

Has the law in its hands…

And decides on reward and punishment…

I am for terrorism…

As long as this new world…

Deeply hates…

The smell of Arabs…

I am for terrorism…

As long as this world…

Wants to slaughter my babies…

And throw them to dogs…

Because all of this…

I want to shout loud and high…

I am for terrorism…

I am for terrorism…

I am for terrorism…