PEACOCK

My name is Jeannine

Wrapped like the fig trees and orchards growing, my name like baladi
Preserved in the red seeds, fig juice dripping down my face
Preserved in the neighbor smiling at me, offering a fruit from his garden
Wrapped like grass around the rolling green hills, my name like shams
Preserved in the citrus smell of the air, ants crawling down the road gathering fig seeds
Preserved in sunlight and shaded trees providing sanctuary

Wrapped like date paste in a sweet dough, my name like kaak bil tamr
Preserved in the date palms growing in the summer, plucked from its stem
Preserved in the celebration of Eid Al-Fitr, recipes shared with neighbors
Wrapped like spiced rice in a grape leaf, plucked from the vines, my name like dawali
Preserved in the yellow stained fingernails wrinkled from the pattern
Preserved in the stuffing, folding, rolling, squeezing

Wrapped like a mother holding her daughter close to her, my name pleading
Preserved in the songs she distracts her children with as the soldiers march through the streets
Preserved in the tears she hides from her children, wiped away with her hijab
Wrapped like the children in white bags, my name like martyr
Preserved in the memories of those who died with them
Preserved in prayers and coffins marching down the street

My name is Jenin

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Translation:
Baladi- My country
Shams- Sun
Kaak bil tamr- An Arab sweet usually made during the celebration of Eid
Dawali- Stuffed grape leaves