I see my queen drained and scarred,
Her skin discolored from hunger strikes,
Her heart and soul almost out of strength.
Her flesh carved by a separation wall,
Her tears aren’t enough soothe the pain,
Even though miles of seas keep us apart,
I feel her suffering within my heart.
My only wish is to see her stars,
To see her colors shining bright,
To glorify and raise her above the sky—
Her red spirit and green olive trees,
Her black soil, stretching farther than a dream—
No more smoke blocking her white clouds,
No more martyrs held over a wailing crowd.
Oh, my only light in the nightly sky
I search above for my only guide,
A vision of bliss to my sore eyes.
My mind yearns for her scenery,
But not from a picture or a colored screen—
Alone, the world is a foreign land
I have her broken pieces in my hand.
And I’ll carry on until I get home.