Don't
call me, father
Don't
seek me
Don't
call me
Nor
want my return.
We
are in an unknown road
The
fire and the blood turned off the route.
We
flew in the wings of the lightnings
For
no more to unseam the sword.
All
of us tumbled in battle
For
no more we return.
Will
there be a reunion?
I
don't know himt.
I
just know that we owed
To
continue to struggle.
We
are grains of sand in the Infinite
It
is will never again see the light.
Good-bye,
my son
Good-bye,
my conscience.
My
youth and my comfort
My
only son.
That
this farewell is the end
Of
the vast solitude.
Because
no there is nobody more only.
There
you will stay
For
ever and ever
Far
away from the light and of the air.
Your
death won't be counted.
No
counted and no lessened the death
For
no more to resurrect.
For
ever and ever
A
18 year-old boy.
Good-bye,
then.
No
convoy arrives of that area
With
or without schedule.
Good-bye,
then
Any
airplane there can arrive.
Good-bye,
my son
Because
miracles don't happen.
And,
in this world
The
dreams don't take place.
Good-bye.
I
will dream about you
When
you were baby.
Walking
for the earth
With
strong steps.
For
the earth where already so many
They
were buried.
This
song, my son,
He
reached the end.
In
THE World in War, 11st part. Russia 1941-1943.
Image:
Palestine Father Saving Son. Images from the video footage of
12-year-old Muhammad al-Durrah being shot dead in the Gaza Strip.
