Seventy years and spring has not yet arrived.
For seventy years, our windows and doors
brought forth revolt after revolt
and we churned the tune
of every song into an uprising.
These houses are our homes
and the land is our homeland.
We are the witnesses
to every form of death,
of all types of endings
day after day—perpetually:
at the front door of a coffee shop,
in the playground of a school,
of a passerby, of dismembered
dolls under every roof, in the gut
of every single home.
I am a Palestinian child. I am the harvest,
the bloom; the river and the rain shower.
I am an Arab child deprived
of land, bread and dawn. I protest
with a slingshot, my bed is a meadow
and my pillow is a shoe and a headstone.
*This poem was composed by Badaoui El-Hage in 2018 and was translated by Zeina Issa
Badaoui El-Hage was born in Ardeh, Lebanon and holds a Bachelor of Civil Engineering from the University of Sydney. He is the author of five books of poetry and the winner of the free verse category at the 2023 Al- Jawahiri Poetry Festival.
Zeina Issa is a Sydney based poet, translator and published columnist. Her work has appeared in Australian Poetry, Mascara, Red Room Poetry and Contrapasso, and has also been anthologised. She is also the creator and editor of Poem and Dish, a space where Australian poetry and her other passion — Eastern Mediterranean food — are celebrated.