"These poems and reflections do not exist separately from their authors, nor from the place and time in which they were composed. They are not here for passive reading. And so, at the end of this collection, we leave you with suggested actions. As poet Rasha Abdulhadi has written:
'Wherever you are, whatever sand you can throw on the gears of genocide, do it now.'”
poems by Gazans and their heart wrenching ''recollections of this past year, reflections on where they are now, and thoughts about where they might be in the future''. May God grant justice to the oppressed in Gaza and lift from them hardship.
''Wherever you are, whatever sand you can throw on the gears of genocide, do it now.”
"Sometimes, in the face of all this, it feels as though nothing can be said. And yet Palestinians in Gaza continue to write, even in the most difficult circumstances. And they continue to imagine a different world" (p 1).
"I write with a heart shattered by everything it has seen that day, everything it has heard: screaming, crying, the endless anguish of people who are being subjected to genocide, forced displacement, and starvation" (p 7).
"How our bloodied hands produce beautiful literary texts" (p 23).
"And when I start to write about all this, I am hounded by the question of whether there is any point to anything we write after a year of genocide and relentless fear" (p 31).
"But how can I attempt to look toward the future when I cannot guarantee the next few minutes of my life? (p 33).
"Wherever you are, whatever sand you can throw on the gears of genocide, do it now." - Rasha Abdulhadi
May these poems propel you to action.
A beautiful, yet heartbreaking, collection of poems that shines a light on the realities of the genocide in Gaza and offers readers a glimpse into the future in a free Palestine.
THE FUTURE OF GAZA, Basman Eldirawi "The future of Gaza stares at the beach: above him are only drones, warplanes, and black sky. An echo of an old memory with friends, running into the water, laughing and singing, resisting the roar of warplanes inside his ear. A nearby explosion happens." * * * WHERE I WRITE NOW, Mohammad al-Zaqzouq, translated by Wiam El-Tamami "Now, as I stood watching people, young and old, dipping their heads into the waves, I wondered: what sea can melt away all this sorrow? The war was raging with full force; death was knocking down doors and breaking into every home. We were drowning in the ocean of our loss, in an unprecedented path of bereavement and mutilation. What sea can possibly swallow up all of these moans, all of this pain, all of these atrocities?" * * * WE WILL LOSE THIS WAR, Samer Abu Hawwash, translated by Huda Fakhreddine "We won’t distract a cloud passing over villages, reminding them of their original names. We will lose this war. We will lose it with our spilled blood. We will lose it with our severed limbs, our gouged eyes, our wounded hearts. We will lose the war with our bereft howls, with a sorrow that refuses to leave us, a grief we’ve been tending for so long it has become our twin, our loyal shadow. We will lose this war and then lose it again. We will lose this war, the way we lost every war before it and every war after it. We will lose the war when we remember everything that happened, when we forget everything that happened and when we neither remember nor forget. And finally as mere dust in the wind, a wandering echo in the wilderness, we will lose the war, once again." https://publishersforpalestine.org/20...