'A'daffa' by Ahmad Qabour

An old song of courage. 'Lina was a child creating her tomorrow. Lina fell, but her blood was singing, her blood was singing!' (For the children of Gaza, the Occupied West Bank... the children of Palestine. You can read the rest.)

It was a song of the Uprising so long ago now...

'The Bank'

'In the West Bank, I have seven children, the youngest of whom still is at the breast.

The middle one is named Guevara. The oldest is a rebel in the West Bank.

O all the world, teach my orphan children.

They planted red roses in the field.

With their help, they reaped goodness... my children, my wife and me.

And we scream.

O all the world:

My country is captive, but I am the bullet, and the stones of the children of the West Bank...

Like a bullet,

Like a cannon...

Do you hear?

Lina was a child creating her tomorrow.

Lina fell, but her blood was singing.  

It was singing.

It was singing:

For the angry crucified body,

For Jerusalem, Jaffa and Jericho.

For the trees standing in Gaza,

For the roaring river in Jordan,

To the angry body in the West:

Oh the pulse of the West Bank does not calm down.

I declare it a revolution.

Break your shackles

And make your body a bridge of return.

Let my country be free,

Make my Occupiers leave.et my country be free,

Make my Occupiers leave.ا

لينا سقطت لكن دمها كان يغني ...

'A'ddafa'