In Memory of the Olive of the Galilee

He was the mountain

He was the sea

And in between

He ploughed the soil of resistance

Planted his poems

And stroked the blue skies with a brush of hope

On the branches of his words

He cultivated olive trees 

And harvested generations of awareness

He was the hand

that moulded the clay of aspirations 

into young souls.

He was a father for all fathers

And his voice 

will remain swinging 

on  the rainbow

Arabic version

In memory of the great Palestinian poet and teacher Hanna Abu-Hanna