She faces the blinding light
memories engulfed by flames
as the thread of childhood, lost virginity and children born
is bulldozed aside
the final portals of her survival
With borderless love
she leaves me the sword and shield of Ayn Gazhal:
Lest the sun sets on who we are
Lest the voids of history obscure
the Arab melody still whistling through the trees.
Fight, fight, the fading of the light."
Ghazala, Ghazala, I came inside you
as the cup of grief spilt over
I anointed your foundations.
My love, me golden love,
a delicate ruin
I am blind to the whores of Zion
their vulgar forms
available for a price
I turn my face from their makeshift cities
My little Ghazala,
I have eyes only for you.
There is ash in the wind
The golden rubble of Ghazala is exposed
and between the olive trees of my ancestors
for the final consummation.