Poem Of The Land Poem by Mahmoud Darwish

A small evening
A neglected village
Two sleeping eyes
Thirty years
Five wars
I witness that time hides for me
an ear of wheat
The singer sings
Of fire and strangers
Evening was evening
The singer was singing
And they question him
Why do you sing?
He answers them as they seize him
Because I sing
And they have searched him:
In his breast only his heart
In his heart only his people
In his voice only his sorrow