At midnight, I went to bed
but failed to sleep.
In the air, I listened the cry of people
under bombing and the cry of children
‘What can I do for them? ‘ I shouted.
A pen said, ‘Pick me up
and write a terrific poem
to teach the oppressors.’
A sword said, ‘Seize me
and start fighting for them.’
I picked up the pen in one hand
and the sword in the other.
My blood started dancing.
Now I can neither eat nor sleep.