This isn’t the last of the hugs,
There will be even more
Like this one, those of before
Under time and death’s eyes
And life’s booming cries,
In a world torn into slit rugs.
This is not the last hug,
The moment when life succumbs
And when it powerlessly comes
To an agreement with death
Saying nothing, holding its breath,
Waiting for a little soul to rise
Under its vain, sorrowful cries
And death taking delivery of it;
Time has another page to edit
On the rejoicing of its company
To the extremes of its destiny
Until the threshold of heaven,
in a life where everything’s even;
There,*Dorra’s waiting as an angel,
A martyr on who time had to tell;
Now it can memorize very well
That hug, that bleeding farewell
Of Dorra’s similar extinction,
And others needless to mention,
Other hugs in such a beastly scene;
In such inhuman rage with no vaccine.
Death, despite its hard assimilation,
Makes of another hug, great salvation.
*Mohammed Al-Dorra, a Palestinian child also killed by the Israeli army on Oct 30th, 2000.