A thread of translated extracts from @modaffarnawwab's poem on Jerusalem. Written in the early 70s, still so relevant today. Probably even more relevant, in fact.

TW // Sexual violence.
In exile, is the key that unlocks me
And so I speak through my lock
They who were locked by passion and lost themselves on Levantine pavement will understand me
They who are the refugee camps where the Quran is read
With this Arab desire will understand me
They who are not yet frauds and do not gather at every revolutionary café will understand me
They who do not retire to occupy themselves with frivolity
Will understand all the rituals of secrecy in my language
They will know all the numbers and all the martyrs and all the names
My homeland taught me to read all the things
My homeland taught me … that the letters of history are fraudulent
If they are without blood
My homeland taught me that the history of humanity
Without love
Is wailing and getting screwed in the desert
O homeland of mine, are you the country of enemies?
Are you what remains of pus and dust?
My homeland, rescue me! I am terrified of the scent of human starvation
Rescue me from cities where people become
Chimneys of fear and manure
From cities that lay in brackish water
O homeland of mine, displayed like a morning star in the market
At the nightly brothels, they cry for you
As some revolutionaries complete their manhood
As they dance to the drum and trumpet
These are your enemies, oh homeland of mine
Who, other than your enemies, sold Palestine, oh homeland?!
They did, my homeland
By Allah, who sold Palestine and became wealthy
Other than a line of beggars at the steps of the rulers?
And the feasting table of powerful countries?
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