Poetry: Ashraf AboArafe
Long live, O Jerusalem — proud, free, and bright,
You shine through ages with eternal light.
You call the skies: “I am the soul of nations,
The Prophet’s path, the heart of generations.”
Here Moses prayed, his spirit bowed in grace,
And here the Christ lit up this sacred place.
And here Muhammad’s call adorned the air,
The minarets rose high in faithful prayer.
Your soil was fed by martyrs’ noble veins,
Your palms have drunk the honor of their pains.
Your yesterdays were songs of brave defiance,
Today your fire burns with pure reliance.
Yet, Palestine, your dawn ascends anew,
From captives’ faith the light is born in you.
Your child returns — the bullet is his song,
He lifts the key of home he kept so long.
O Land where every faith in peace had grown,
We cry: “The glory ever shall be your own!”
Your shining morrow heals the wounds of years,
The worlds shall bow — in love, not driven by fears.
