Will you watch till none remain,
Till Gaza's streets exhale but dust,
Till olive trees forget their names,
Till waves forget the feet that danced?
Will you watch as homes collapse,
As laughter drowns in fire's roar,
As mothers clutch their lifeless young,
Their silence heavier than grief?
Will you watch as history weeps,
As echoes of Nakba rise once more,
As exiles walk unwelcome roads,
Their homeland burning into ash?
O world, if still a voice remains,
Speak before the breath is lost,
Rise before the stones all fall,
Wake before the names erase.
For silence now is no refuge—
It is a grave, deep and wide,
Not for the dead who lie in dust,
But for the conscience of the living.
— MyKoul
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem