It had wounds.
A voiceless mother – I saw holding her child,
Not to let him sleep, but to protect him from a sleep that never returns!
Walls fell like tired memories – as if eating…
Windows became eyes that saw so much and could not cry.
A small toy remained among the ruins like a shadow
The only thing on that street that still awaits a child’s footsteps.
Oh, humanity, how far have you forgotten your hearts?
What kind of victory is this when a mother loses her child’s soul, over an empty cradle?
What flag is waving?
Bombs fall from the sky, but the sun opened its rays like a pea leaf and smiled…
And this is the greatest victory:
That hands were able to build houses on orange trees –
No! To build graves!
But tonight I don’t want to give war the last word on earth.
Because somewhere, between a cracked wall on earth… a seed still sleeps.
And one day it will break the stone, it will raise its head towards the shining sun…
And it will tell the world: “I was not born for war. I was born to live.”
Cry, my heart – cry if it hurts.
Tears are not weakness. They are the rain of the soul that refuses to turn into stone.
And if my heart tonight is loaded with the worries of the world,
I will put my hand on it
And I will say slowly: “I am still here. I still feel. I still love. Therefore, there is still hope.”
Because the world can be cruel,
But as long as one heart trembles from the pain of another mother’s loss…
Then humanity has not died.