*Key: D ©2025
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A teacher and a poet was Refaat Alareer
He taught his Gaza students that hope can conquer fear
What was he doing when bombs dropped from the sky
Writing his own epitaph: If I must die
These are the words—the good poet wrote
If I must die—let it bring back hope
A kite like an angel flying above
If I must die—let it bring back love
So welcome to the city where not a building stands
Yonder sat the poet, a poet’s weapon in his hand
And welcome to the playground where the bullets fly
As children also pose the question: If I must die
These are the words—the good poet wrote
If I must die—let it bring back hope
A kite like an angel flying above
If I must die—let it bring back love
Walking through his family’s ancient lemon grove
The fruit that’s lying on the ground is ready to explode
Today there are no lemons for making lemonade
It’s only blood will flow—from a live hand grenade
These are the words—the good poet wrote
If I must die—let it bring back hope
A kite like an angel flying above
If I must die—let it bring back love
From deep beneath the Gaza sands to high above the clouds
The voices of the poets hang suspended like a shroud
As his students learned from Refaat the poems of Shakespeare
We will learn the hope and love of Refaat Alareer
These are the words—the good poet wrote
If I must die—let it bring back hope
A kite like an angel flying above
If I must die—let it bring back love
If I must die—let it bring back love
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