If you are not rain, my dear
Be tree
Sated with fertility, be tree
And If you are not tree, my dear
Be stone
Saturated with humidity, be stone
And If you are not stone, my dear
Be moon
In the dream of your beloved one, be moon
[So spoke a woman
to her son at his funeral]
Excerpt from Mahmoud Darwish - "A State of Siege"
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https://www.arabworldbooks.com/en/e-zine/a-state-of-siege