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A Poem By Jalal Al Jayyousi (A Palestinian Poet)

I miss my grandfather's orchard.
I miss the grapevine.
I miss the olive grove.
I miss you, Palestine.

I miss sitting at my grandfather's doorsteps,
Enjoying the smell of the jasmine tree.
I miss the music of the buzzing bee.

I miss the sunset walks
Along the pine tree line.
I miss a homeland
That I can call mine.
I miss you, Palestine.

I asked about your news
And I found:
That my grandfather's orchard
Is no longer around.

That the olive grove
Has been razed to the ground,
So that the settlers
Can have the peace of mind.

And that since the bees
have been sprayed with insecticides,
You can no longer enjoy their buzzing sound.

I heard that you are moaning in pain
As your blood is being spilled
On every mountain, valley, and plain.

That you are calling on your children in every land
To come rescue you
From the oppression of an evil mankind.

I am coming back, my cherished land,
To plant you with fruit and olive trees,
And flowers of every kind.

No matter how tough is the strive,
I am coming back to build the beehive.

I am coming back, Palestine,
In spite of the bullets of the cruel border guard,
In spite of a western life that is so fine.

No matter how many years have gone by,
I am still your loyal son, my Palestine.

-Jalal Al Jayyousi

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