For my heart to drop like an unripe apple
From the orphan branch on the family tree
So they can discover the law of love?
For the pest to spread,
With its manicured nails
And its glamorous necktie,
To bury the newborn babies
Before they are given suitable names?
Was it necessary to have
All this beastly terror,
Flooding like the moon,
All this lunar silence?
For us to turn backwards
To all these centuries?
--- Samih Al-Qasim