Psalm Three

On the day when my words were earth...
I was a friend to stalks of wheat.
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On the day when my words were wrath
I was a friend to chains.
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On the day when my words were stones
I was a friend to streams.
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On the day when my words were a rebellion
I was a friend to earthquakes.
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On the day when my words were bitter apples
I was a friend to the optimist
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But when my words became honey...
flies covered my lips!...

(RIP Mahmoud Darwish)