THE HANDSTAND

DECEMBER 2003

POEMS
BY
ZEINAB HABASH

I Am

Upon reaching my 14th year, I wrote the following in my daily diary:

“ I was nothing, became something, but will be everything”

Who am I?

What am I?

Two grand questions overwhelm the calm fire of my life

For I am, whom I am

I am this vast sky

With open arms to embrace all the birds in flight

I am this ocean with all its treasures

And this earth with all its magic and mystery

I am the sun , I am the moon.

I shrink,

And transform into a dew drop

Glistening on the crown of a violet bloom

I expand,

And pluck the stars with ease

I am everything I conceive

And everything I will conceive

Everything I conceive in wakefulness

Everything I conceive in sleep

Everything I conceive in truth

Everything I conceive in fantasy

I am all those whom I love

And all those

I will love

I am all the towns I visited

And all the towns I will visit

My eyes see all existence

My arms embrace the universe

My heart grows to hold the world

All these trees are mine

And all these song birds

Are singing for me

Whenever I shut the door behind me

When I leave my home

The doors of ultimate happiness and freedom are open for me

And when I return

The door becomes happy

And the flowers in my garden, which I irrigate each morning

Are so jubilant

At my return .

When I enter my home

I enter my small paradise

Yes

For home is my small paradise

In it I listen to sweet music

In it I draw a Homeland and color it to my taste

In it I create dreams and trees and poems and legends

In this small paradise

I feet God has created the whole universe

For me

I humbly stand, at the threshold of the Creator

In my pure white clothes

I thank Him for innumerable blessings

And recite His words, which are above all other words

I feel I’m close to Him

And He’s close to me

My heart then is full with peace and happiness

So that if I open my eyes

The world

All the world

Will drown in them

This is who I am

And what I am

Is it true I am all this?!!!

How wonderful!!

Zeinab Habash – July 25,2001


A love song to the Snow

Oh Pure white

The Purity of angels

Laughing as children

Grand as a bride’s gown

Wonderful as a poem

Fragile as the grip of a child’s hand

Conquering as judgment

Exceptional as a jasmine flower

Elegant as a lily

Graceful as a ballerina

Alert as a candle!

In you I see my most beautiful dreams

And my innocent love

I see the glimmer of happiness in my eyes

And the mythical portraits of wonderful art

I see persons and forms and flowers

I see birds and gardens

As if I live in another world!

Am I dreaming?

Or am I hovering in the seventh sky?!

As if I stand at the throne’s doorsteps

And see the light of God

And the Creator’s greatness

I see God’s power

And feel His gentleness, His wisdom and His kindness

And see His smile, like no other

I wish I can hold on to you

And hold you to my bosom

I wish I savor your taste

And clean my heart with your purity

I wish you permeate every cell of my soul

And create in my heart, love, happiness and life


I wish I sleep on your feathered pillows

And cover my body with your white sheet

And gather the warmth of your downy fur

Everything subjugates to you

Everything receives you with love, like no other love

The Earth hugs you with her arms

The trees surrender to you

The flowers close their eyes and slumber in your lap

The walls call upon you to ascend them with your integrity

And the streets give alone, the right of way

Everything gives itself to you

Are you the eternal love?

Oh You, White as a lover’s steed

Let me ride your horseback

Rush me to the unknown fields

Take me to your bewitched forests

Float me in the world of poetry

Sing to me the song of innocence

And let me hear your sweet music

That refreshes the soul

Oh You, gentle as a butterfly

To You, I afford my life

Absorb her nectar

And make her a part of You

Oh You, divine blessing

Quickly sprawl on all quarters of our motherland

And transform into fresh water

For the people of Palestine

Are so thirsty for water

So thirsty for happiness

So thirsty for freedom

And here you have come to us

Possessing everything we need.

Zeinab Habash


Mohammad Al-Dura

It is so… without any retouches

Mohammad Al-Dura

This beautiful dark child,

transforms,

Into the entire motherland

Whenever I see you, Mohammad,

Writhing in pain

Trying to shrink your small body

So that the bullets of death do not  strike you,

I cry

Whenever I see you crying

For help from your father

Who is transformed into a statue,

Of absolute failure,

I cry

Whenever I see your mother

Choking on her tears

As Virgin Mary did

As she cradled her child,

Her own flesh and blood,

I cry

Whenever I see your pearly tears

Spill from your beautiful eyes

I cry

Whenever I see your head fall

Onto your father’s chest,

I cry

Whenever I see your tiny hand

Wipes up the tears that have poured,

On your wrinkled face,

I cry

Whenever I see your body

Sprawled in the dust,

And grows and grows before my very eyes,

I cry

You have grown, Mohammad

To the size of our motherland

And your small body

Blankets the whole of Palestine

And your innocent blood

Which like a waterfall

Flooded upon the earth

Caused the drowning of our motherland

From Sea to River

From Ras Al-Naqurah to Rafah

I did not grieve for your martyrdom

But for the way you were martyred,

At high noon,

In view of every human on earth

Isn't this what happened to all of us,

In the past?!

Isn't this what is happening to all of us, every day?!

Isn't this what will happen to all of us,

In the future?!!

The whole world watches us

While we are killed in cold blood

In all the previous massacres

In all the massacres that are happening now

And in all the massacres that will happen in the future.

Your father is a powerless man

Without ability and without strength.

He even waved his paralyzed arms

Begging the killer

To stop the murder of his beloved boy!

Whenever I see you, Mohammad

I cry for me

For You Are Me!

You are all my family!

And you are all Palestinians in this universe!

Whenever I see your father

I cry for  all the Arabs

Who though love us very much

But are so powerless

To lift the injustice that engulfs us

Whenever I see the free people of the world

Support us

I cry and cry for all the human values

Which are erased with a tiny eraser

Called the American Veto

By Zeinab Habash©November 7, 2000

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED


Jamal al-Durra hands his day-old son, Mohammed to Amal, his wife ; the baby is named after his brother who was killed in 2000