In my Gaza, a scholar rests,
a poet’s voice, now stilled, but blessed.

Tell my tale: his words so deep,
to keep his memory, not to sleep.

His poetry, a beacon in the sky,
a symbol soaring, way up high.

Make it white, with a long tail,
he said, his spirit, never frail.

Through dusty streets where hopes are thin,
he left us a legacy to begin.

In every heart is a whispered vow
to keep his dream alive somehow.

Professor Refaat, in every breeze,
your wisdom stays, it never flees.

So here we stand, your words our guide,
in every verse, you still reside,

If you must rest, let hope ignite,
you are the light in the dark night.

Rest in peace, your tale we will share,
your kite of hope, beyond compare.

In Gaza’s sky, it’ll forever thrive,
Professor Refaat, you’ll be alive.