Shortcake
Nour Abd AlJawad
So it seems the
scene from afar, the scene
moving and biased
towards the pain and sorrow and anguish, the scene carries
our voices scattered quietly and deliberately to say what we are
confident that Statoil our voices will reach for
adults and children do not stop
the walls and wires,
a scene full of children
crowded their heads with ideas and words to
express the details of many fill their place,
Venal out the
meanings of speech and describe this place, you
and I sit on the edge of the road and talking leisurely
by fatigue does
not know about the children of
Gaza who roam the Erect sector and
not us wondering
is this pain and
sadness?
Gone our
children beside the house became a tent over the
rubble of the house, they said to not see you, we have the
fantasy beautiful palaces,
passing beside the mosque grows Allah Akbar said
Nampak, we have hope in tomorrow, and joy is
coming inevitably, passing beside
the woman carrying the truth
in a jar on her
head, but not the fact that
Tri in Gaza they
are not achieved.
They are hungry children
knocking on the door of God every night on the sidewalks of the road, their
children are silent and their silence tale and stories siege in full of stench
and moisture place a room surrounded by mold and the smell of endothelial breath,
but for them is better than a piece of bread, and they are not far from The Big
Brawl in a long queue for a fraction of the food and conquer their hunger and
keep their chests screaming groans from hell, which Tzidhm questions do you die
tonight? While tweet raids and missiles abroad here when death becomes them
investigator after a few hours, waiting to die, but what repels this death is
the calls from the mother and one from the young man and the other of an
elderly keep their children send their calls Lord of heaven from oppressed
wounded and tortured at the hands of the unjust.
Our children do
not deserve to be tortured are
our children bear the faces of innocence are
the sun shines never sets how beautiful and round as the moon, so do not be a
partner to kill those children and kill these
words as a partner with me lying to
talk a lot with that
we know that they will continue
their sufferings against our children, but it we should be talking about gangrene words I remain convinced you that they
are wrong.
Scene is repeated every
morning enumerate every day a child carries the story and his head is full of
rooms destructive but ultimately keeps the child laughs aloud from this scene
and decides to grow up against their story.
ليست هناك تعليقات:
إرسال تعليق