I told her “My dream awaits

Beyond the olive groves,

It hides in the warmth

Of a figs sugary folds.”


I told her “My childhood,

Nestled in your jasmine vines,

Swings in whispering scents

That powder your neck in thyme.”


I told her “My heart lives

In Palestine’s street,

In your life visit again

So I can feel my heart beat.”