What will finally the children?
What will children grow up too quickly in the folds of a bitter reality, a reality that shatters dreams as coffee cups and steals the years of childhood and ingenuity? What of the pain that makes them to nurse from the first days of life and their unexpressed anger toward a God who sees and hears their prayers naive? There is nothing to worry about when the roots are dried in the sun and tenderness of a whole generation is kidnapped in their childhood.
" A person who digs in wound of a million people away,
to him, whose tanks crush the rose garden,
to him who breaks the windows of the houses in the night,
the giver to fire a garden and a museum and sings all
'Fire!
A man, whose hand will melt the hair of mothers
for lost children and have come up vines,
to the one who bumped into the square from my happy
turn to Him, whose childhood dream of the air crash, in
one who breaks the rainbows,
announce tonight the children from the roots impossible
announced last night the children of Rafah:
us non-woven blankets from a braid of hair, we do not spit
on the face of un'uccisa,
after removing the gold teeth ...
Why then take from us our sweet and bullets? Why
orphan children of the Arabs?
Many thanks!
The pain made us reach the age of manhood:
we must fight! (Samih al-Qasim, the guys at Rafah)
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