A million suns in my blood

Tawfiq Zaiyyad They robbed me of my water, oil, The fruits of my sweat and toil, The ray of the sun, the taste- Of bread ; they laid to waste The threshold of my lovely home, And left me, homeless, to roam In the twilight of the darkling plain , Limping, lonely, loaded with pain. They treated me with cruel disdain: But, though I suffer in their chain, My proud dignity I shall retain; And a million suns shall remain In my blood, shining, defying their perfidy, As I stand tall, despite my tragedy!