Mohammed Abu Lebda is a Palestinian poet and translator from Gaza.
"I witnessed the attack today," Mohammed Abu Lebda wrote to me earlier this week, from Rafah. The Israeli airstrike was near the field hospital where he works as a translator. "I can't express how awful today was," he said. "How the kids said goodbye to their dead mother. There is a smell for the dead, especially when it's close to you."
Abu Lebda, a 27-year-old poet and translator from Gaza, wrote to share a new poem. He and his family, who have "lost everything," are still in Rafah, among the nearly 1.5 million Palestinians seeking shelter there, as the Israeli military closes in.
—Frederick Deknatel, Executive Editor
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Thousandfold Legacy
If my father had given me the choice,
I wouldn't have picked this name,
Or any other name.
I'd have chosen a number,
Maybe "One Thousand."
A choice as random
As everything that was,
And everything that will be.
When my father is away,
My mother wouldn't worry,
For "One Thousand" is at home.
Thieves would tremble,
As would the wolves of the night,
And the thirty bullets.
The idea of playing with "One Thousand"
Frightens the neighborhood kids.
They scatter when I come near,
For no swing
Can hold "One Thousand."
In war,
Where logic dies,
Because one missile can kill a thousand,
I'd find solace
Knowing my death won't be ordinary.
And people would gasp
At the breaking news:
"One Thousand's valor shines."
