Esraa Hussein

“My feet they are sore, and my limbs they are weary;
Long is the way, and the mountains are wild;
Soon will the twilight close moonless and dreary
Over the path of the poor orphan child.

Why did they send me so far and so lonely,
Up where the moors spread and gray rocks are piled?
Men are hard-hearted, and kind angels only
Watch o'er the steps of a poor orphan child.

Ye, distant and soft, the night-breeze is blowing,
Clouds there are none, and clear starts beam mild;
God, in His mercy, protection is showing,
Comfort and hope to the poor orphan child.

Ev'n should I fall o'er the broken bridge passing,
Or stray in the marshes, by false lights beguiled,
Still will my Father, with promise and blessing,
Take to his bosom the poor orphan child.

There is a thought that for strength should avail me;
Thought both of shelter and kindred despoiled;
Heaven is a home, and a rest will not fail me;
God is a friend to the poor orphan child.”
― Charlotte Bronte, Jane Eyre

“نحن لم نبك ساعة الوداع! فلدينا لم يكن وقت ولا دمع ولم يكن وداع! نحن لم ندرك لحظة الوداع أنه الوداع فأنى لنا البكاء! طه محمد علي 1988, لاجئ من قرية صفورية”
― إيلان بابه, The Ethnic Cleansing of Palestine

“مشيناها خطى كتبت علينا .. ومن كتبت عليه خطى مشاها
ومن كانت منيته بأرض .. فليس يموت في أرض سواها !”
― أبو العلاء المعري

“و من البديهي أن لا شيء في العالم يعذب النفس البشرية أكثر من الفراغ”
― ستيفان زفايج