Embroidered patterns ‘pon the cedar bark
lace Lubnān’s trees with Filasṭīn’yun pow’r;
the mountain’s lament, ‘cross the valley dark,
sings grief ‘n fury to the olive flow’r
that blooms in clusters upon Gazan trees
who bleed with generational anguish…
The Earth-Sprung dance on fierce ‘n righteous feet,
their rhythm rooting for their neighbour’s swift
‘n true deliverance from hatred’s theft
by racist violence for colonial ends!
A “Promised Land” would be a land bereft,
built-on ‘n haunted by the dispossessed,
their soil-borne echoes rising to attest
to empire’s evil, that their souls transcend.
From the mountains through the valley
‘cross the river to the sea –
the people of Filasṭīn and of Lubnān
will be free!
Image credit – REUTERS/Mohamed Azakir
william altoft 