Close I shall my eyes to its existence, considering it a fallacy,
As rather I’d die than savor such a delicacy,
Which by others is served to me on a plate,
For how brazen it is,
To eat from another’s meal?
When only to have it, I have yearned,
And to acquire it, never burned?
Undeserving I will be of each second I breathe if I feed on such a treat,
Until I sweat to blood,
Stirring the cauldron to awaken hunger for it in every stomach,
And together with others, help to prepare the feast with my own two hands,
Not for me, not for you,
But for those who have waited too long,
The famished people of my land.
– Hafsa Khawaja