In Gaza every street is Karbala

 When I was a child I would pray 

That in my dreams I would see you Husain.

 I imagined a hero in the desert 

Flanked by angels on both sides.

Many years my prayers unanswered 

Many years wishes differed 

And then I saw you 

Husain you are a father 

In a hospital in Gaza 

With an unborn corpse 

Nestled in your arms 

Is this fetal-martyr your son?

In the streets of Sheikh Jarrah every youth 

Is killed before they can bloom 

Every beauty and her veil goes up in flames 

With burning walls and doors.

What more must they give till angels come?

Is this the dream I wished to see?

Husain are you dead? And is your family gone?

In Gaza every street is Karbala 

Every boy who dies is your son

The songs of Palestine your daughters cries.

Is their thirst your holy thirst?

Or is the thirst of Gaza only thirst?

Oh master of martyrs 

Lord of the youths of paradise 

When you rise on judgment day

And the doors of heaven welcome you

I hope you carry in your arms 

All The infant martyrs of Palestine.