By Lise Brouillette

In the West Bank and Gaza

when it’s bright and sunny

it does not mean no rain or storm

in the forecast
 

For the rain that may come then

has naught to do with life

and everything with death

a deadly hail that kills

women, children and hope

the droppings of birds from hell
 

In the West Bank and Gaza

when it thus rains so hard

it is not to make crops grow

but to sprout settlements

on the graves of the ones

discarded to make room

for the ‘Chosen’ ones
 

Ya Allah, ya Allah, ya Allah

How much such rain

must there be

before the end of all life comes

and graves are all

that’s left in Palestine

of the Prophet’s followers…
 

In Jerusalem or Tel Aviv

when it’s bright and sunny

it does not mean no rain or storm

in the forecast
 

For oft you feel a storm brewing

with naught to do with grey skies

the clouds that assemble then

are not produced by any rain

except tears
 

In Dimona or on Jaffa Road

in Hadera or Netanya

it is not storm clouds that gather

but anger, rage, provoked hatred

brought on by sins too oft committed
 

Tears and wails will rise like dew

from both sides of the Wall

and blacken skies everywhere

mingling with blood as they fall

in a storm surge drowning all
 

Oye, oye, a sad bargain it is

to exchange Shoah for Nakbah

rivers of tears are never dried

when they are traded for blood

but carve in an ever bigger bed

that keeps flowing, flowing, flowing…

 -Lise Brouillette worked extensively as a translator. She lives in Montreal. She contributed this poem to PalestineChronicle.com.