“And I Decided (From Arabic)And I decided to goRound the world on freedom's bicycleBy ways illegalAs the travels of wind.When asked for my addressI give the address of all sidewalksI chose as permanent residence.When asked for my papers,I show them your eyesAnd am allowed to passFor they know that travel in the cities of your eyes, my dear,Is the right of all world citizens. وقررتنزار قبانيوقررتأن أطوفَ العالمَ على درّاجة الحرِّية..وبنفسِ الطريقةِ غيرِ الشرعيِّةالتي تستعملها الريح عندما تسافر..وإذا سأَلونيعن عُنوانيأعطيتُهم عنوانَ كلِّ الأرصِفةالتي اخترتها مكاناً دائماً لإقامتي.وإذا سألوني عن أوراقيأريتُهُم عينيكِ، يا حبيبتي..فَتَرَكوني أمرّ..لأنهم يعرفونَ أنَّ السفر في مدائن عينيكِ..من حق جميع المواطينَ في العالم”

“Because my love for you is beyond words, I decided to shut up.”

“Oh Jerusalem, the city of sorrowA big tear wandering in the eyeWho will halt the aggression?On you, the pearl of religions?Who will wash your bloody walls?Who will safeguard the Bible?Who will rescue the Quran?Who will save Christ, From those who have killed Christ?Who will save man?يا قدسُ، يا مدينةَ الأحزانيا دمعةً كبيرةً تجولُ في الأجفانمن يوقفُ العدوان؟عليكِ، يا لؤلؤةَ الأديانمن يغسل الدماءَ عن حجارةِ الجدران؟من ينقذُ الإنجيل؟من ينقذُ القرآن؟من ينقذُ المسيحَ ممن قتلوا المسيح؟من ينقذُ الإنسان؟”

“My lover asks me:“What is the difference between me and the sky?”The difference, my love,Is that when you laugh,I forget about the sky”

“O Sultan, my master, if my clothes are ripped and torn it is because your dogs with claws are allowed to tear me.”

“Jerusalem! My Love,My TownI wept until my tears were dryI prayed until the candles flickeredI knelt until the floor creakedI asked about Mohammed and ChristOh Jerusalem, the fragrance of prophetsThe shortest path between earth and skyOh Jerusalem, the citadel of lawsA beautiful child with fingers charredand downcast eyesYou are the shady oasis passed by the ProphetYour streets are melancholyYour minarets are mourningYou, the young maiden dressed in blackWho rings the bells at the Nativity Church, On sunday morning?Who brings toys for the childrenOn Christmas eve?Oh Jerusalem, the city of sorrowA big tear wandering in the eyeWho will halt the aggressionOn you, the pearl of religions?Who will wash your bloody walls?Who will safeguard the Bible?Who will rescue the Quran?Who will save Christ, From those who have killed Christ?Who will save man?Oh Jerusalem my townOh Jerusalem my loveTomorrow the lemon trees will blossomAnd the olive trees will rejoiceYour eyes will danceThe migrant pigeons will returnTo your sacred roofsAnd your children will play againAnd fathers and sons will meetOn your rosy hillsMy townThe town of peace and olives”

“My Master...Say all you wish of me.It does not matter to me:Shallow.. Stupid.. Crazy.. Simple minded.It does not concern me anymore.For whoever writes about her concerns.in the logic of Men is calleda stupid woman.and didn't I tell you in the beginningthat I am a stupid woman?”