They did not recognize me in the shadows <br />That suck away my color in this Passport <br />And to them my wound was an exhibit <br />For a tourist Who loves to collect photographs <br />They did not recognize me, <br />Ah... Don't leave <br />The palm of my hand without the sun <br />Because the trees recognize me <br />Don't leave me pale like the moon! <br /> <br />All the birds that followed my palm <br />To the door of the distant airport <br />All the wheatfields <br />All the prisons <br />All the white tombstones <br />All the barbed Boundaries <br />All the waving handkerchiefs <br />All the eyes <br />were with me, <br />But they dropped them from my passport <br /> <br />Stripped of my name and identity? <br />On soil I nourished with my own hands? <br />Today Job cried out <br />Filling the sky: <br />Don't make and example of me again! <br />Oh, gentlemen, Prophets, <br />Don't ask the trees for their names <br />Don't ask the valleys who their mother is <br />>From my forehead bursts the sward of light <br />And from my hand springs the water of the river <br />All the hearts of the people are my identity <br />So take away my passport!<br /><br />Mahmoud Darwish<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/passport/
