When I return to the ruins of my home,
I shall embrace it
I shall tell it
About the days I spent as a refugee in the streets.
I shall describe to it the cold winter nights,
How it killed the young and the old,
The harsh cold showed no mercy.
I will talk about the summer sun
That burnt us,
And about the weary steps on foreign pavements
That never knew our names.
When I return to the ruins of my home,
I will say to it, “The home’s people have departed”.
They left the house and the city,
And nothing remained but you my home,
A witness to the anguish.”
I will set you standing again,
I will make a small museum of their memories,
And from your rubble, an everlasting memory.
How I wish I had lost no one,
How I wish I had a home
Like the homes of others.
Amira Atiya Abu Al-Husain
09/10/2025
(Translated by writer and edited by Palestinian Stories team)
