The cry of a Palestinian child

by Salma Jilani

Like other children in the world

Playing on the school field

Reading a book in the library

Not in my destiny

Because I was born in Gaza

What’s the meaning of a good life?

I do not know

We play with rocks

In return, attacked by bullets

If survived convicted by the military courts

My country is like a thin streak of land-dwelling

It is said that the ark of covenant (taboot e sakeena) buried here

The legacy of the prophets is calming and soothing

But for me under its shadow

No rain from the clouds

Instead, dynamite is poured

My cry does not reach

To Heavens

Although I am the defender of the first Qibla

Be the real legacy of the prophets

But I am surrounded by rubble

Where everything has burnt to ashes

Even my unseen dreams

Salma Jilani

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