The sun walks through the border
Guns keep silent
A skylark starts its morning song
In Tulkarem
And flies away to sup
With the birds of a Kibbutz
A lonely donkey strolls
Across the firing line
Unheeded by the watching squad
But for me, your ousted son, my native land,
Between your skies and my eyes,
A stretch of border walls
Blackens the view!

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