My Love, I Fear The Silence Of

The Metaphor For Palestine Is Stronger Than The Palestine Of Reality.

We Are Captives, Even If Our Wheat Grows Over The Fences/ And Swallows Rise From Our Broken Chains./ We Are Captives Of What We Love, What We Desire, And What We Are.

If The Olive Trees Knew The Hands That Planted Them, Their Oil Would Become Tears.

I Am Not A Lover Of Israel, Of Course. I Have No Reason To Be. But I Don't Hate Jews.

The Poem Is Neither Here Nor There, And With A Girl's Breast It Can Illuminate The Nights. With The Glow Of An Apple It Fills Two Bodies With Light And With A Gardenia's Breath It Can Revive A Homeland!