By Saed, Gaza Strip, Palestine, July 17, 2026
Like phantoms we live in the void
Time is measured by funerals
In nowhere
We live as shadows live
There is no existence here
Nor nothingness there
Like phantoms we live in the void
Time is measured by funerals
In nowhere
We live as shadows live
There is no existence here
Nor nothingness there
But we become clearer in memories
***
The home is the heart’s pillow
The soul’s serenity in the afternoon call to prayer
And the traveler’s longing for home
The home is the mother’s voice
And the father’s face
Reproaching in the glimmer of tears
The knot of guilt in the river’s silence:
If the water would bring me back
I would never leave you, O spring.
There is no existence here
Nor nothingness there
Yet my heart
Sighs like a candle in memories
But we become clearer in memories