He who knew iron did not regret!
Deep in the cave
In the heart of the hearth
With the dust and the remains of the blood of the sacrifice and the broken bones
A solid, solid spirit was formed
And emerged from the depths of God
An alloy in the earth…
One day later, man became iron,
And the past disappeared in shame.
For ages we carried it on our shoulders,
For ages it carried us on its cogwheels…
In the orchards we were saved from the scorpion,
In the battlefields it was certain death,
On the earth it was ears of wheat and hunger…
The sharp iron
It is the same rusty iron
And the cosmic system
And the poles of the elements that glorified their ancestors:
Lead, tin, and bronze
The hardest iron
In its alliance with sulfur,
The iron with the ringing
And the sharp, wounding heads
And the terrain of the earth
And the fractures of wars…
Iron is the companion of the hands of the Savior.
Painting by Amir Khatib
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