The Palestine Chronicle is pleased to feature two poems by distinguished South African poet Rassool Snyman.
My Name is Palestine
Rassool Snyman
My name is Palestine
My name is Palestine
Heed it and be freed
From the ravages of oppression
And fear
My story is your story
My pain your pain
My dream your dream
My liberation your liberation
I have wronged none
But have been wronged
I have been beaten
I have been shot
I have been mutilated
I have been robbed
I will not be cowed
My name is Palestine
I have no fear
Fear is but a milestone I passed
Somewhere on my journey of dispossession pain misery
My name is Palestine
I will not be cowed
My children have been killed
My vineyards razed
My water stolen
And my home demolished
My name is Palestine
I will not be cowed
Strangers from foreign shores
Steal my lands
In guile and deceit
Assisted by international thieves
And global plunderers
Witnessed by a silent world
Drugged and blind
In the name of twisted ideologies
Make me a stranger in my lands
And rain death upon me
My name is Palestine
I will not be cowed
As the stars are so shall I be
As the sun sets and rises
So shall I
I shall break the chains
That are placed on my wrists
I shall remove the manacles from my legs
I shall tear loose from the dust
To which I am chained
I shall stand on my feet
Not live on my knees
I shall cry freedom till my last breath
I am Palestine
I shall not be cowed
Or enslaved
Or bought
Or sold
I am neither chattel
Nor slave
I am Palestine
I will not be cowed
I have been starved
Strangled
Suffocated
Tortured and maimed
I have endured
I am stronger
Resolute
My spirits soar
Like the eagle
My hopes like the cedars of Lebanon
Reach to the heavens
On the wind is my name written
In songs will I live
In your memories will I reside
For eternity
Death may embrace me
Beyond shall I exist
For eternities
And more
In you
In your children
In your children’s children
Immortalized in your dreams
Should I die
Whisper my name
Before you sleep
That I repose amongst the stars
That you might see me
And remember me
And speak of me
For I am Palestine
I will not be cowed
(South Africa – 3/12/2008; "Tales of Extreme Sanity")
***
Thus Spake Palestine
Rassool Snyman
He sat amidst the ruins
In the fading light
Of the setting sun
Whipped and lacerated
Proud yet humble
A smile on his dust covered face
Tear steaks furrowed his cheeks
I am Palestine said he
I am from here and there
And everywhere
From time immemorial
Have I tilled the soil
Planted my roots
And reaped my fruit
I have raised my children
And taught them the ways
Of humanity
Of respect
And compassion
And oneness
Between tears and anger
I tell my story
Between grief and sorrow
Joy and laughter
My emotions flow
Like she who ran
Between Saffa and Marwa
In the sunshine of Time
I await my own wellspring
To quench my thirst
To cool me
To give me succor
To give me rest
And respite
And shelter
Within me I rage
But I tame the tempest
Harness the maelstrom
Malice is not of me
Therefore I banish it
Vengeance a stranger
Therefore I shun it
I have for centuries
Co existed with others
For I am others
And they me
Loathe am I to debase myself
And ruin my soul
I am patient
For I shall triumph
Time is on my side
The boots of oppression that trample me shall fade
As have faded those before
The shackle and whip destroyed
As have those before
History shall give me eternal life
Though my lifeblood seeps into the hungry earth
I am renewed
Reinvigorated
Reborn
In every mind
In every heart
In every freedom song
I live even as I die
I die even as I live
I am broken I so many places
Beyond count
It is hope and my dreams that bind me
Keep me together
My dreams are ordinary dreams
Of peace
Of children
Of an assured future
Of safety and shelter
Of freedom
Of justice
Come to me
Come with me
My home is welcoming
My hearth warm
My family courteous
And hospitable
Let us share
What little I have left
Hunger is a terrible thing
And so is thirst
It was in the political twilight
That there came upon us
Those who wreak destruction
In the name of their gods
And nationalistic dreams
Perfumed nightmares
To any other but they
They marched upon us
With fife and drum
Fire and death
Fire in their hand
And murder in their hearts
Like hungry angry locusts
They swarmed
And swarmed
Devouring our land
And our peace
And shed blood
In the name of their peace
There lie my sons and daughters
Fruit of my loin
Salt of the earth
Innocent
Strewn on fields
Of bayonets and bullets
They tore from me
What beauty I possessed
My poems have died inside of me
My songs lifeless
My thoughts laid bare
My solitude stillborn
They ravaged my soul
And laid waste my dreams
The fires have died in the hearth
And inside of me
My family no more
In ashes am I covered
I am cold
I am empty
Hollow
Pained
Grieved
I see in your eyes pity
Pity me not
Empathize with me
For me
For those I lost
And may never see again
Weep not for me
Give me your hand rather
That I be strong
I am broken yet whole
I am Palestine
Thus is my tale
The sun set
Darkness set in
Thus spake Palestine
Thus was his tale
(South Africa – 3/1/2008; "Tales of Extreme Sanity")