By Fadi Abu Deeb

Our Father who is in the old rain
Hallowed be your youth
Let your icons imprinted in the mist of the hills be manifest
And the paths of your angels among our trees become as many as our alleys
Give us certainty like the old one
And never get bored of our village as it is empty like the moon
But come to us, so that we plant the valleys together.
Teach us to see what lies in the bosom of the spikes
And the fire buds in the old olive trees
Please don’t let us leave the high mound
Because the Lordly sun and her sea will appear soon