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May 4, 1998

 

Our Children’s Blood

 

The blood of our sons

our strong and silent youth

 

The blood of our daughters

fair maidens thrown to hatred’s lust

 

The hope of our years

lost

embed within this restless soil

from which now grow

lives of other form

indifferent to their lot

and ours

who mourn their loss today

 

They would have us give up these lives

betray the love for which they died

they know not what they ask

I cannot

my child lies beneath that field

we cannot forget

the love of life

that caused that death

The blood of our sons

our strong and vibrant youth

 

The blood of our daughters

fair maidens for a husband’s love

 

The hope of our years

live

blood yet flows their pulsing veins

from which may grow

lives of younger years

their joy parental love

and ours

praise God! They live today!

 

They would have us give up these lives

betray the love for which they live

they know not what they ask

I cannot

my child plays upon that field

we cannot permit

the hate of life

to cause their death

 

I heard on the news today about how Britain and America

are encouraging Israel to give up yet more land

in order to assure peace.

 

And thought “How dare they!

Their sons did not die.

Their daughters were not harmed.

They know not what they ask.”

 

Surely the blood of children dead

demands to be remembered.

 

Then I saw the other side.

 

And thought “How dare they!

Their sons must not die

Their daughters must not be harmed.

To retain a land that in time will pass.”

 

Surely the blood of children living

demands to be preserved.

 


Our Children's Blood

A poem by Peter Rhebergen

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