ﻓﻲ ﺯﻣﻦ ﺍﻟﺒﻄﻮﻻﺕ ﺍﻻﻓﺘﺮﺍﺿﻴﺔ ...
ﻳﺮﻛﺐ ﺍﻟﻈﻠﻢ ﻭﺍﻟﺒﻬﺘﺎﻥ ...
ﺧﻴﻮﻝ ﺍﻟﻔﺮﻭﺳﻴﺔ ..
ﻭﺍﻥ ﻛﺎﻧﺖ ﺧﺸﺒﻴﺔ ..
ﻋﻰ ﺟﺪﺭﺍﻥ ﺍﻷﻗﺼﻰ ﺗﺮﻣﻰ ﺍﻟﺴﻬﺎﻡ ..
ﻭﺭﻏﻢ ﺭﻓﻴﻒ ﺍﻟﺤﻤﺎﻡ ..
ﻋﻨﺪ " ﺍﻟﻘﺒﺔ ﺍﻟﺬﻫﺒﻴﺔ "
ﺗﺠﺮّ ﺃ ﺍﻟﻈﺎﻟﻤﻮﻥ ..
ﻳﻘﺘﻠﻮﻥ .. ﻳﺸﺮﺩﻭﻥ ..
ﻭﻳﺪﻧﺴﻮﻥ ..
ﻭﻟﻜﻦ ﻫﻨﺎﻙ .. ﻓﻲ ﻣﻬﺒﻂ ﺍﻷﻧﺒﻴﺎﺀ ..
ﺗﻨﺒﺾ ﻓﻲ ﺃﻭﺭﺩﺓ ﺍﻷﺣﺮﺍﺭ ..
ﺗﻠﻚ ﺍﻟﺪﻣﺎﺀ ..
ﻣﻦ ﻧﺴﻞ ﺧﺎﻟﺪ .. ﻭﺻﻼﺡ ﺍﻟﺪﻳﻦ ..
ﻭﻛﻞ ﺍﻷﻭﻓﻴﺎﺀ ..
ﺳﻴﺮﻓﻊ ﻫﻮﺩﺟﻚ ﻳﺎ " ﻋﺮﻭﺱ ﺍﻟﻌﺮﻭﺑﺔ "
ﻭﺑﺬﺭﺓ ﺍﻟﻜﺮﺍﻣﺔ ﺍﻟﻤﻐﻠﻮﺑﺔ ..
ﺳﺘﺰﻫﺮ ..
ﺳﺘﺜﻤﺮ
ﻭﺗﺪﺣﺮ ﺍﻟﻐﺎﺻﺒﻴﻦ ..
ﻭﺗﻌﻮﺩﻳﻦ ﺍﻟﻴﻨﺎ ﺷﺎﻣﺨﺔ ﻳﺎ ﻓﻠﺴﻄﻴﻦ ..
ﺳﺘﻌﻮﺩﻳﻦ .. ﺳﺘﻌﻮﺩﻳﻦ ..
" ﺍﻧﺎ ﻏﺪﺍ ﻟﻨﺎﻇﺮﻩ ﻟﻘﺮﻳﺐ " ﺃﻻ ﺗﻌﻠﻤﻴﻦ ؟