Lebanon - May Mercy Prevail Upon You Poem by Bernedita Rosinha Pinto

War is not a friend nor an enemy
War is death and devastation;
War is not an end but a beginning
as generations will last with hatred;
War is fragile and wicked
War needs empathy and solidarity.

Through the years of my life that I have lived,
in 1990 I have seen and experienced the Gulf War;
I was a teacher in Saudi Arabia then,
and the Gulf War ended just as fast as it had begun.

I had many Lebanese friends
who worked along with me as teachers in Saudi Arabia;
even some of my students hailed from Lebanon
and they were so polite and beautiful;
now as they face the crisis of war in their country,
my heart weeps for them and their families.

I hope they survive the ordeal with fortitude
as they always demonstrated courage in their attitude;
I also pray that peace returns soon to their land
and resumes their way of life and comforts.

But as explosions keep occurring suddenly
and make their apartments to crumble down,
I breathlessly watch that wrath and sigh deeply
as people live just one life which is so valuable
and war has no right to stifle the breath so unjustly.

O' the war begins to get so painful and agonizing
it holds no sanctity nor respect for others existence;
yet I say a prayer silently so that my friends
and their families survive as those falling bombs
keep turning the apartments into debris and dust.

If only could eyes see and foresee the future,
fate could have never been so brutal;
war could have never been the alternative
as it is only compassion that can make
torture and sufferings redundant,
it is only the kindness of a heart
that can recede anguish,
it is only the prudence of a mind
that can select to show mercy
and uphold safety, survival and peace
of its own nation and of others.

So, Israel, if only could you realize how time
shifted the life of those barren deserts
and made them bloom into flowers
of unity and brotherhood,
you would not be in so much of haste
to drop those bombs on those homes
which belong to my friends
and on those apartments where perhaps
reside their innocent families and children
whom I must have taught in that school
while I worked as a teacher in Saudi Arabia.

And as we sat in those classrooms,
those children never feared the chapters
of history whenever we browsed thro' the pages;
yet today a war as large as the Niagara falls
rocks their spirit of love and unity
making them flee from their own land
and rush to search for safety and shelter,
for food and for a blanket
and for a place to sleep and rest
so that they wake up to see the dawn the next day
while their own dear ones have got injured back home
or lost their lives and have been buried together
under the sand which can express no sorrow.