My first son Hassan
Was born on April the 9th
You might think
So what… why are you saying it
With such a gloomy tune
What is wrong with 9th of April?
You have to be a Palestinian
To understand
For on the 9th of April 1948
The massacre of Deir Yassin
Took place
Where every man women and child
Of that peaceful farming village
Was killed in cold blood
No one survived
Except those
Who pretended to be dead
As we celebrate the birth of a new born
With joy
We mourn and grief
Lost loved ones
In our midst
Nothing comes insular
Nothing is disjointed
No single colours
The fabric of our lives
Makes the most amazing tapestry
If you hold it backwards
Looking at the wrong side
You’ll see a mirror image
Of shades of a blurred picture
With loops… knots and fraying thread
If you turn it over
It looks much neater
But still you can’t actually see
The full picture
Only colours and shadows
But hey… take a little time
And walk backwards
Further back
Look at the tapestry
From a distance
You will be amazed
With its outstanding beauty
All these murky shades
That didn’t make sense to you
Even disturbed you
When you were near
From far
These dark shadows
Are precisely what makes this piece
So unique
So spectacular
These unfathomable hues
Is what give our life portrait
Its depth
And hidden dimensions
Since that day of 1948
Many… many babies were born
On April the 9th
Our joys are always stained
With hints of sorrow
Our sadness is always coloured
With hues of hope
Without which
The tapestry of our lives
Will never be complete
Won’t be as rich
Or as beautiful
Don’t waist much time
Staring at the wrong side with fury
Turn it over… walk further back… and feel the glory
01-04-2006
Filed under: Articles | Tagged: Deir Yassin, Nakba |
Poetry for Palestine 
Reblogged this on Ned Hamson Second Line View of the News.
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