Save Palestine. Save Humanity.
For we may speak different. Yet we cry the same. We may sit different. Yet need the same muscles to sit. We may see different cuisines. But we eat the same. And though our romances may seem variable. We love the same.
Gaza-based writer Hedaya Shamun writes — although her writing rituals have disappeared — about the world she sees around her in the first and second nights of “Operation Protective Edge.” Translation by Ghada Mourad and Tyson Patros:
By Hedaya Shamun
Gaza’s embargoed roses. From the Palstreet blog: http://palstreet.blogspot.com/2009/12/blog-post_19.html
All the writing rituals escaped. I possess nothing except a lead pencil and a piece of white paper, even though I am wary of the word lead. I want a pencil of life because life is now so dear in Gaza, and there were so many who insisted on plucking it like a flower whose infanticide they hastened. Especially those small flowers because they are beautiful; the hands snatch them and do not let them live. Our children became flowers stripped of their leaves, colors, and nectar. I feel anguish.
All the rituals of writing escaped after the soul slipped out of the body…
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