Rafah Poem by Nassy Fesharaki

Rafah

Pauline Johnson, myself,
Are Half-breed children,
Indigenous, our fathers,
Mothers' blood, invaders,
Such a life is grievance!

Our pain is complex,
Is a hell, yet simple,
And burns us all over.

Our fathers accepted,
The faiths of invaders,
Brought by our mothers,
Like the Esther-Relations.

Poor she, from Christians,
To the world I was Muslim.

My father, all his life,
Asked me to see Kaaba,
The house of Abraham.

He believed as was told:
Praised God's prophets,
Abraham and Moses,
Then Jesus, Mohammad!

"My lovely, kind father, "
I did not dare mention:
"These lies are invented! "

Pauline and I act as twins,
Do not buy these fictions,
With a hero called Moses.

Abraham's story,
And Sara, sister-wife,
Their school, Yeshiva,
Columns of Noah's Ark,
Are foolish, are made up,
With their serpent and lies!