Read this poem.
by some one from Norway.
You carry the weight of
the world on your shoulders.
"It's a prison a bigger prison but still a prison"
The balance of terror would collapse the day you leave the Middle East.
You are not longer the son of Abraham; your parents buried you alive.
You wear the cross with the four directions like the crusaders.
Jerusalem your thick walls and virginal white stones are not for cowards.
Bubbles of air in the stone.
Bubbles of air give the souls breathe.
The wall of Jericho checkpoints and barbed wire,
Where are the drums and the flutes?
The green waves of passion and a red Norwegian passport let me in.
Poor Jordan River there is just a stinky mud left.
Johannes when you see this from your sky.
Relive the river with your cry.
The cable car from Jericho to the Mount of temptation stops on the halfway
The heat has no sound and a silver haze covers the Jordan valley.
It is scaring.
There is no need for a confessional as long as you have a cable car.
Jesus was here in 40 days;
caves of stone give him shelter from the sun.
" You should go to Rammalah, " you said.
The grave of Arafat, the waves of Ararat.
Jerusalem your domes are coloured red of gold and blood
Black holes where is the directions.
The door in Holy Sepulchre is low and has humility for God.
You were 18 year in Ashkelon
Prison waiting for your freedom,
And you have been 1001 nights in "Quds esh sharif "
You still carry the weight on your shoulders but you also carry 40 white roses
When you cross Salahadin Street.