In the year Two-Thousand-and-Ten
365 Missiles were fired by Gaza men.
Across the wall, No Jews were killed at all
But 8 felt shock, when in July
A rocket landed quite close by
Israeli rockets in Twenty-Ten
Killed 64 children before they were men
Their vacant space implores we take their place
It's time to count the missiles there
Caress the dead, lay siege to fear
Bloody stolen land of lies, Zion hates not guns, but sighs.
It dreads the weeping in the wide world's eyes.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Brave utterances set aside for sober reflection. A witty work of art. Thanks for sharing, Rox.