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By Yusra Al-Ayoubi
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Act Two Scene Six |
Act Two - Scene Six (In a Palestinian camp) Refugee When shots come from above Don't reply, dearly it costs They want to draw us to a battle And black September returns Behind us, in front of us all We encounter machine-guns A scheme planed time ago, to assassinate us by free charge. Let us defy danger. Let us storm the place They want us to control our nerves, and make settlements, on our account. Let the earth now shake Either we die or are victorious. After we left our homes by force, Will find in another no esteem. Shower of shots come from above, From machine guns and cannons. Besieged by camions, armored vehicles And cars standing in front of buildings For whom are all these preparations? Why people immigrate? Why the wealth of nation fled? Our commanders are taking vacations Occupied by conciliations Disarming our organizations Saying they don't want to engage in fighting Nor to give orders Nor to gather for suggestions They are discussing mutual recognition Begging from their aggressors Their liberty, their crumb state What have you done for your nation? What have you done for their fate? Their revolution is Kan Yama Kan Gather to drink tea To exchange, jokes and idle chatter To sit around tables wheeled by exquisite food To walk with guards around Their photos in magazines appear Their faces happy, full of laughter Are we going astray Are we fighting for fighting? Thirty years in camps passed away Murdered by both brothers and foes Without fighting Yesterday one of our leaders, a big mind Married and gave his bride Quarter million for her dowry Another million over due For snobbery From the revolution's due Another one gave his daughter in marriage In Meridian hotel held her celebration Invited people Kan ya ma Kan Music band enters Orchestra leaves A father enjoying His daughter's wedding But why does he accept presents From princes and subjects As the God -father in tales A revolutionist who wants to live A life of princes and Sultan? Another one, a peasant's son His father had an honest history He doesn't want to marry But a Queen of beauty A young man, brave, Handsome and upright. All young women desire To have a glance From his glance full of light His heart full of fire Why chose he to be a prey Heart and soul to surrender His springy step to stumble down? Hasn't he ever heard Of Dalila and Samson? Chorus This not the way of true revolutions These revolutions don't succeed This is the way of settlements The way of deterioration and defeat We the young men of the camps Pay victims by thousands How many coffins Every day we carry How many holes We dig to bury Guivara had no money to spend On his children's boots worn out Hoshe Mine in his seventy Used to sleep on earth with the military The life of revolutionists Is full of dangers Not when crisis is intense As ghosts they evaporate Not heeding our breasts Bare to machine - guns Unarmed, bleeding |
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