From ravaged soil, a fierce promise to resurrect the homelands dreams, challenging brutal patriarchal structures, navigating profound grief and defiant, hopeful resilience.
Oh God, hear the cry of Afghan Girls
Oh God, hear the cries from the broken hearts of Afghan girls,
Listen to the sorrow of Afghan children.
What do they want but freedom and education?
Hear the voice of this 14-year-old Afghan girl—
What does she seek but a pen and a book?
Oh God, what has that poor soul done,
That they tore her heart into pieces?
My mother is kind and true,
She’s the shelter I turn to.
Without her, my heart is weary and worn,
Lonely, aching, and forlorn.
With great passion and hope, I went to study and learn,
But they broke my hands and feet so I couldn’t return.
I was devoted to learning, yet they made me lose my way,
Now I’m left in despair, as my fate fades away.
With Many Hopes
With books and with a pen,
I dreamed to read and build my homeland.
But they set fire to the books and burned my dreams.
When my hands were torn from the pen,
Arrows of death rained down upon me.
My dreams of peace remained,
But my life turned to ashes.
If I were to say where my books have taken me,
The men of this age would stone me mercilessly.
My homeland, I would sacrifice myself for your wounds.
My homeland, I would give my life for your tricolored flag.
For your sorrow and despair,
For your soil and your land,
I will rebuild you with passion and hope,
I will make you a shining moon among the stars.
