Collage

I'm going through old magazines of mine. Cutting out little articles and pictures for English class. I've printed out pictures of my friends. Of places I used to go. They wanted to know where I come from. And I'll tell them I'm going back. I swear I am.


In Lidda, in Ramla, in the Galilee,
we shall remain
like a wall upon your chest,
and in your throat
like a shard of glass,
a cactus thorn,
and in your eyes
a sandstorm.

We shall remain
a wall upon your chest,
clean dishes in your restaurants,
serve drinks in your bars,
sweep the floors of your kitchens
to snatch a bite for our children
from your blue fangs.

Here we shall stay,
sing our songs,
take to the angry streets,
fill prisons with dignity.

In Lidda, in Ramla, in the Galilee,
we shall remain,
gaurd the shade of the fig
and olive trees,
ferment rebellion in our children
as yeast in the dough. - Tawfiq Zayyad