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Happy
Birthday Shaden
By: Saed Abu-Hijleh (Nablus,
Palestine)
February 15th, 2004
Today Nablus is covered with
snow
A marked change from the color
red
Yesterday was Valentine's
Day
Up all night and I could not go to
bed
Thinking of love lost
And words I shouldn't have
said
But if it is cold Outside
I must stay warm Inside
And remind my soul of the goal
ahead
A face I must meet at my journey's
end
A paradise with nothing in
disguise
Where true love is no more
veiled
Shaden in the beginning and Shaden
at the end
A wife, mother, grandmother, and a
friend
The bullets of hate did not stop
the birth
Of love on this planet
And the candle I will light
Will glow despite
The darkness of "their"
souls
Illuminating the path of
emancipation
For the wretched of the
earth.
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Forty
Days
Forty days have passed since my soul
left the land of Canaan on a Phoenician ship.
Forty days have passed since the
start of this mystical trip.
When will you return?
Without you I will not know the road
to the Land of Love.
When will you return?
Without you I cannot see my face in
the mirror of pride and grace.
You left and left your leaving in me!
You left and left no one but you in
me!
You left and asked me to stay,
"Goodbye my dear" you didn't say,
For the day we will meet everyday I
pray.
Oh Allah creator of all, only you can return my soul.
Make me my Lord worthy of her return,
In the furnace of thy love my sins
please burn.
Shaden, the youngest deer.
Shaden, the reason I am here.
Shaden, the music I hear.
Shaden, the death of fear.
Shaden, not far but near.
Shaden, my dearest dear.
Shaden, My Beloved Mom.
Shaden my den,
Mother of Lana & three young men.
Shaden the wife of Jamal,
Daughter of Um Nidal,
Grandmother of Zina, Nadia, and
Yasmin,
Mother of the oppressed and the poor,
Your soul will remain free and pure.
With the blessing of Almighty the ship will reach,
To the desired safety of heaven's
beach.
Saed Abu-Hijleh (Nablus, Palestine)
November 21, 2002
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Images
What remains of her are images
That have faded some with time.
One image, in particular
Is etched into my mind.
Even though I was not there with
her
To watch the scene unfold,
The images are clear to me
From the stories I’ve been told.
She sits on steps on which I spent
Many evenings as a child;
Steps on which my family sang
And danced and talked and smiled.
The image of her smiling is, in fact,
the one I see,
As my beloved aunt was murdered there
And taken away from me.
No longer will I hear her voice
In laughter or in song--
The image is more evidence
That things have gone so wrong.
And I never knew this heart of
mine
Could ache without an end,
As if the love that it’s meant to feel
Might never come again.
I never knew how misery could tear our lives apart
Until I got the image
Of a bullet in her heart.
Although the pain has lost its
edge
As I live another day,
The image of her dying there
Seems not to go away.
And I feel so helpless sitting
here
And I don’t know what to do
And so I sing to release the pain
Of what we’ve all been through.
Because I don’t believe this heart of
mine
Should ache until my end;
She didn’t live her life that way;
It’s not the message she would send.
In fact, I feel her smiling now
As she comforts me in light;
Her message sent so lovingly
To not give up the fight
As long as people live in fear
Of dying in their homes,
And all the world seems not to hear
The songs we sing alone.
by: Soha Al Jurf
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You must be Superman to be a real man
in Palestine...
You must use all your senses 24-hours a day in order to
stay...
You must hear the gunfire, then the screams that fade
away...
You must see the blood, again and again, and still see
red...
You must hold the barbwires in your hand and smile for
the elderly woman trying to bypass the Israeli
checkpoint...
You must smell the teargas and cry as if there aren't
enough tears in this "Holy Land'...
You must taste the humiliation and eat Nabulsi sweets
all in the same day... And...
And still think of the olives and thyme...
And think of ways to end this endless crime...
Oh my beloved... do we still have time...
To hold hands and kiss... and raise our children in a
cosmic bliss...
Saed J. Abu-Hijleh
Nablus, Occupied Palestine
January 2003
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beauty came to rest its feet
on verdant, flowered soil
it called itself Shaden
and those she touched knew joy
she sheltered weak and strong alike
in cloaks of light and peace
and when the meek were wronged by might
she raised her voice in speech
then one fading day with a calm, gentle spirit
Shaden slipped away.
Shaden soared away.
above the heaving earth she soared
as it weeped for its beauty's passing.
but Shaden smiled from a loftier perch,
for she saw a new justice massing
Julie Ohlendorf
November 2002
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To whom this poet shall read,
To whom shall he write?
To you? To I who is always shy?
To earth, to sky?
To the living lie?
To endless search for love lost?
To minuets and hours inside the belly of the beast? To
West or East?
To friends who treaded this thorny path, bled and
smiled and went away?
To secrets hidden and revealed, to visions across this
lonely field?
To truth remaining after we die?
Ask not the bullets where they come from,
Watch them weep in the air,
They have seen his eyes, his smile, his hair.
He was all of life? But life after he fell remained!
Haunting those of us who silently watched.
Saed J. Abu-Hijleh
Nablus, Occupied Palestine
August 2002
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My Fast Bike (El Boskolait Al
Saree3ee)
I rode my bike,
He rode his F-16 and tank,
I sang my song,
He shot me and gained his rank.
I am the terrorist, he is the victim!
I am a martyr now and did not go to school,
He is the civilized one and I am the fool.
No matter what I say, his story is right,
Everyday he tells you "terrorism we fight."
My tree uprooted, my house blown,
My land confiscated, my grandmothers moan...
I am imprisoned, they cut my flesh, they break my
bone...
Do not kill me today I have a better option,
Let us race and see who is faster,
The one who wins will become master,
You on your tank I on the bike,
He who reaches first to the Land of Love,
Will tell the story for the coming generation.
Saed J. Abu-Hijleh
Nablus, Occupied Palestine
September 2002
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Beloved Sisters and Brothers,
Sixty five days and counting,
Anger in my being is mounting.
Sixty five days and counting,
The child in me is shouting:
I want to run, to fly, to sing, to cry,
To walk, talk, write on the blackboard with a chalk:
"End this bloody occupation..."
Sixty five days and counting,
Nablus the city of goodness,
A wounded witness to this “bloody occupation...”
No need for wake up calls,
The tanks come on time,
Go on time,
And leave you no time to plan your time…
But can these tanks kill the thyme… of Ebal and
Jirzim?
Kneel to these monsters they tell us
everyday,
But only to Allah we kneel when we pray,
Another sixty five thousand days will not change what I
say.
Tanks do not grow on mountains but
olives do.
Tanks do not grow on mountains but Palestinians do.
I am an olive and my blood is oil,
My flesh is this sacred soil,
My breath the wind of the Mediterranean,
My eyes make the sea blue.
Sixty five days and the fascist can
go to hell,
The mosque will say Allah Akbar,
The Church will ring its bell.
Saed J. Abu-Hijleh
Nablus, Occupied Palestine
August 2002
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My Beloved,
18,934,560 Minutes have passed since
Sindbad started his worldly journey.
Sindbad did not reach his destination
yet.
Sometimes he feels that he never left.
How many faces he met?
How many choices he made? How many bets he bet?
How many times was he caught in the enemy’s net?
How many times he won? How many times he lost?
How many candles he extinguished? How may candles he
lit?
How many times they tried to convince him to take his
rest?
How many times they told him to abandon his ship and
build a palace like the rest?
How many times they told him: sell your soul and you
will be the best?
How many times they told him: think of yourself and
forget the rest?
My beloved,
For you I travel, your face I
seek.
Your heart is my sea, your breath my wind;
Your eyes my gate to my soul.
For you I travel, your face I
seek.
In you all journeys end; from you all journeys
start.
Have I lost the blessing of your
secret?
((315,576 Hours))
315,576 hours of searching for the
unknown
I searched for you in you but I did not find you
I searched for me in you but I did not find me
I did not find you at the end of the road &
I did not find you at the beginning of the road . .
.
But how and when did we meet?
I searched for your eyes
everywhere
In the deserts of life
In the sea
On the train . . .
Inside my soul
"All in all, it is just another brick in the wall" . .
.
But Sindbad is made to transcend all
walls . . .
And, again, as my dear Bob Marley said:
"Emancipate yourself from mental slavery,
Non but ourselves can free our minds" . . .
So, 315,576 hours of searching . .
.
And the search continues ----------- >
Despite the curfew, the guns and tanks, the barbwires,
and betrayal…!
Saed J. Abu-Hijleh
Nablus, Occupied Palestine
August 2002
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Beloved Sisters and Brothers, Relatives, Friends, and
Collegaues,
This is a poem by Jalal Al Din Al Rumi:
My heart, sit only with those
who know and understand you.
Sit only under a tree
that is full of blossoms.
In the bazaar of herbs and potions
don't wander aimlessly
find the shop with a potion that is sweet
If you don't have a measure
people will rob you in no time.
You will take counterfeit coins
thinking they are real.
Don't fill your bowl with food from
every boiling pot you see.
Not every joke is humorous, so don't search
for meaning where there isn't one.
Not every eye can see,
not every sea is full of pearls.
My heart, sing the song of longing
like nightingale.
The sound of your voice casts a spell
on every stone, on every thorn.
First, lay down your head
then one by one
let go of all distractions.
Embrace the light and let it guide you
beyond the winds of desire.
There you will find a spring and nourished by its
waters
like a tree you will bear fruit forever.
Rumi: The Hidden Music
by Maryam Mafi & Azima Melita Kolin
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Beloved Friends, Relatives, and Colleagues
In silence we live, and in silence we
die,
Humanity is not even shy.
Curfew from the beginning of time,
Curfew till the end of time,
Curfew, and few care.
Curfew in my cup of coffee,
in drinking water, and in the air.
Twenty days and counting,
Twenty days and waiting,
Twenty days and no one came on a white horse,
Twenty days, yes, maybe, I suppose.
In these words I shall say what
CNN,
ABC, CBS, won’t say.
In these words I shall document,
Three million souls in torment,
Six million eyes looking at the skies,
For salvation they pray.
The truth is here, love might come
later!
But who am I to say! Are my words louder than tank
shells?
Saed J. Abu-Hijleh
Nablus, Occupied Palestine
July 2002
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Dear Sisters and Brothers,
In an endless search to understand
the endless pain,
and the reasons why, Sindbad is still gathering pieces
of the puzzel.
A voice from nowhere told him: "You
cannot make a decision until the
picture is complete..."
"But what if I could not find all the
pieces? Or if some pieces did not
exist in the first place?"
How would Sindbad know, and would his
search last forever ?!
"Everything has a beginning and an
end," the voice said.
"Where is the beginning of my soul,
and where is its end?" Sindbad
said.
This debate raged for a while inside
his head...
Then he rose from his bed, and left the house... at
least for a while...
Maybe he'll receive a clue from
someone he knew,
Or from Yasmina, whom he did not see for a while,
Or from someone or something new...
The unknown is here till dawn,
Tomorrow is another day,
May we all pray that the sun will rise again,
that love conquers all,
that our shadows will remain,
on this White Paper,
on Olive Trees, on Land and Seas,
on Mediterranean Wind...
Saed J. Abu-Hijleh
Nablus, Occupied Palestine
May 2001
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Dear Friends and Relatives,
I am writing to you after a long
period of silence.... I could not write
for a while... The situation here is really
depressing...We lost many of
our beloved ones...
Israel is death and nothing but
death,
Israel is murder and nothing but murder,
Israel is the negation of humanity,
Israel is pain and blood,
Israel is a river of tears,
Israel is the manifestation of pure evil.
We will fight against all of this
madness,
We will be steadfast in saying no to our jailers.
I do not know how long this nightmare
will last,
but I hope that it will end before love will end,
I hope it will end before hate becomes the only human
emotion in our
hearts. I hope this will end before hope itself
ends....
From the love that is still in my
heart I send you all a glimpse of light,
Please pray with me for the end of this long
"Night."
Saed J. Abu-Hijleh
Nablus, Occupied Palestine
March 2001
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| Five
by Saed J. Abu-Hijleh
October 11, 2007
(On the Fifth Anniversary of the Assassination of
Martyr Shaden Abdel Qader Al Saleh Abu-Hijleh)
Five …
Fifteen bullets came out from the beehive
Stung me in the heart
Left me with an endless wound in open air
Five years and the pain is still there…
“Give me a Five” the killer told his
partner
“We killed her….”
Blood dripping from his smile
“We killed her and killed her Five!”
“Will they survive?”
One husband and four children are still alive!
Death was not an option after her death
They had to tell her story to a world that is
deaf:
If sounds of bullets were not enough
If screams of pain and anger
Mocked by Israeli soldiers’ laughter
Do not make the deaf hear
Then we will etch our souls on hearts made of
stone
Hoping the marks will tell the story we want to
tell
About a saintly woman who rang the bell
Against the oppression of Israeli hell
Five is the number of fingers on her hand
Each were pointing to the homeland
Five her senses were:
She saw the rainbow arching over our lives
She smelled the wind of the Mediterranean
She touched our souls with her kindness
She tasted her food so that we can enjoy the
taste
She heard the voice coming from within and acted
with grace
But her sixth was the strongest: she knew!
And her dreams & nightmares always came true!
The Ten Commandments of Israel are now Five:
Thou shall Kill, Kill, Kill, Kill, and Kill
Palestinian blood thou shall spill, spill, spill,
spill, and spill
The Commandments of Shaden are now Five:
Thou shall Love, Love, Love, Love, and Love
Every year add more Love to my Love
The followers of Shaden are now more than Five
An army of lovers that shall strive
To liberate Earth from oppression
This is their sworn mission
A war of attrition
Israeli Apartheid will not survive
Five Salaams on your soul
Mama Shaden mother of all
Mama Shaden mother of all…
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Nine
Years!
by
Saed J. Abu-Hijleh
October
11, 2011
(On
the Ninth Anniversary of the Assassination of Martyr
Shaden Abdel Qader Al Saleh Abu-Hijleh)
Nine
years
Still
travelling in a river of tears
Carrying
your face
Your
name
Trying
to reach your heart
So
the part can unite
with
the whole…
Nine
years
Holding
the rope
So
you won’t slip away
For
death not to kill hope
Nine
years
Of
waging wars
On
my soul
On
my body
On
enemies of love
Following
your dream
Took
me to lots of places
Hot
and cold
Met
many faces
Your
story must be told…
Shaden
A
lighthouse
A
compass
A
road map
To
the most beautiful place
To
the Oasis
Full
of love and grace
Brothers
and sisters
Young
and old
Content
and happy
Thanking
the Lord
October
11, 2011, Nablus, Palestine
(On
the Ninth Anniversary of the Assassination &
Martyrdom of our mother Shaden Abdel Qader Al Saleh
Abu-Hijleh)
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Last updated on
2011-11-22
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