Let them hold the pen
and write their own destiny
rewrite all our wrongs
write away the suffering
write verses about springtime.
The people hunger
let them relax and eat figs
let them enjoy peace
and drink their tea in the shade
without bitterness and fear.
Let them drink knowledge
again, instead of poison
let them write the truth
let them tell their history
of math and astronomy.
Let them hold the pen
now, after too many years
let them write their fate
let them have milk and honey.
As their poets write again
we’ll find them standing
by the ruins of their homes
speaking timeless words
words that we refused to hear
in a tongue we tried to cut.
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