Hole in the World

For Refaat Alareer 

On the day you were murdered
I did many of the things
you would have done if alive—
woke up, kissed my daughter, went
to work, taught a few curious souls
a little about reading a poem—
then read the news in which
your name appeared without
you there anymore. Your assassins
were thorough.

On the day you were murdered
I was not. I came home and read
to my daughter and made her supper.
Whatever your killers could have
accused you of—being a poet,
being a teacher, being a lover
of the world and a hater
of those killers by the numbers—
that’s me too. But I’m here
where the bombs began
their journey, not there
where they found their final
home. Therefore: I’m alive
while you are not. 

    Poems, I tell
the students, are made of
simple things yoked together
to make the unimaginable
exist. A new thing previously
unthinkable. 

                   On the day you were
no more I wanted to be able
to hold my daughter in my arms
and tell her a story. I didn’t
want to speak of your children
missing you forever I didn’t want
to tell her we never met
and never will. Where
in this poem

        where in this world
does the word genocide go? 

If I must die
you wrote
let it bring hope
let it be a tale

I write this poem
and it makes nothing
happen. Nevertheless
the hole in the world
where you still should be
is real. Those left behind
to labor with words:

        let us
make some poems to fit
the form of your absence.


Originally published by Jadaliyya


Writer and professor Refaat Alareer was killed in an airstrike by the Israeli military on December 6, 2023, along with his brother, his brother’s son, his sister, and her three children.

Alareer shared countless narratives about the horrors of the Israeli occupation and system of apartheid, and he mentored so many Palestinian writers, including Yousef Aljamal who describes his friend as ​“the giant of the Palestinian narrative coming out of Gaza.”

Refaat’s poem ​“If I Must Die” has been shared widely since he was killed. On social media, an impromptu effort translated it into dozens of languages: Spanish, Italian, Tamil, Urdu, Tagalog, Greek, Japanese, Yiddish and more.

“IF I MUST DIE” 
BY REFAAT ALAREER

If I must die, 

you must live 

to tell my story 

to sell my things 

to buy a piece of cloth 

and some strings, 

(make it white with a long tail) 

so that a child, somewhere in Gaza 

while looking heaven in the eye 

awaiting his dad who left in a blaze— 

and bid no one farewell 

not even to his flesh 

not even to himself— 

sees the kite, my kite you made, flying up above 

and thinks for a moment an angel is there 

bringing back love 

If I must die 

let it bring hope 

let it be a tale

فال بد أن تعيش أنت 

رفعت العرعير

إذا كان لا بد أن أموت 

فال بد أن تعيش أنت 

لتروي حكايتي

لتبيع أشيائي

وتشتري قطعة قماش 

وخيوطا

(فلتكن بيضاء وبذيل طويل) 

كي يبصر طفل في مكان ما من ّغّزة 

وهو يح ّّدق في السماء 

منتظرًاً أباه الذي رحل فجأة 

دون أن يودع أحدًاً 

وال حتى لحمه 

أو ذاته

يبصر الطائرة الورقّية 

طائرتي الورقية التي صنعَتها أنت

تحّلق في الأعالي 

ويظ ّّن للحظة أن هناك مالكًاً 

يعيد الحب

إذا كان لا بد أن أموت 

فليأ ِِت موتي باألمل 

فليصبح حكاية

ترجمة سنان أنطون 

Translation by Sinan Antoon

Total
0
Shares

I hope to God you will not ask

Poem by

"I hope to God you will not ask me to go anywhere except my own country

Agape’s Love for Gaza: A Poem for Peace

Article by

In the heart of Gaza, where ancient stones whisper tales of endurance

Hymn to Maa Tara

Video with

We offer prayerful salutations at the feet of Maa Tara.

The Glorious, Victorious Life of Bodhisattva Wayne Shorter

Article by

In remembrance of the renowned jazz saxophonist, composer, and SGI Buddhist practitioner

Vocation

Poem by

Shining a light on the briefest of miracles that is life

Artist Ana Mendieta

Video with

Ana Mendieta was an interdisciplinary artist, referring to herself as a sculptor. She is best known for her earth/body works, most specifically her now iconic Silueta Series, in which she used her body, and later the absence of the body, in the landscape

Opening Oneself 

Poem by

Our task is not to save anyone, nor the world, not even ourselves

Child of the Moon

Poem by

Beirut, 1988 The question of why me has haunted meYou put a machine gun to my head, you got her on her kneesDecades later, an unanswered question and a traumatized brain This terror is hard to shakeI tried meditation and it has been the sameFor all this

Support SAND with a Donation

Science and Nonduality is a nonprofit organization. Your donation goes towards the development of our vision and the growth of our community.
Thank you for your support!