“Save Beirut from Hell”
“Please, my son, don’t shoot today,
They are kind, perhaps ordinary, our neighbours for so long.
Please, habibte, don’t go out today,
Stay home, eat mana’ich, break bread with your family.
I peer through my broken window onto Hamra Street below,
They are boys, as my own,
Eyes glazed, shoulders solid.
We, and our mothers, gave birth silently, to these children;
They, and their fathers, give birth violently, to this hell.
Please, my son, don’t shoot today,
They are tired, like we are,
We have lived this for so long.”
May 10th 2008