To my beloved father who gave his life for freedom.


Resting in a place, bottom yawning the clay,

A rock in my land, in a corner to stay;

In the shade of an oak, standing erect and prime,

The rock of every year, the friend of all the time.


Days come and go, years swallow the years,

Storms roar and growl, dropping wrath and tears;

The skies darken and shine, pouring snow and rain,

The rock of every year, proud no hum of pain.


Birds laid the gifts, horses rubbed the skulls,

Dogs marked the signs, the cows dated the bulls;

Lizards chased the sun, wolves sprayed the leak,

The rock of every year, humble no sign of tweak.


Father amid his people, to fight he swore the will,

His father among his guests, sitting silent and still;

His mother calling the goats, flocked before the ride,

The rock of every year, the prized among the pride.


The sun shining above, the heart feeling the heat,

A breeze shaking the oak, her head standing the beat;

Grass scratching the bottom, ants hollowed the caves,

The rock of every year, napping feeling the waves.


Hands of my ancestor, the marks carved the top,

A game of smart and style, your dog must do the hop;

The kids playing around, laughter shaking the ground,

The rock of every year, smiled loving the sound.


My hands on your memorial, a kiss on each face,

For you beloved father, pilgrim seeking your trace;

Sitting top of my temple, meadow yellow and bright,

The rock of every year, the mother of my delight.





The Rock is a very distinct big stone at the south east side of FREHA the meadow in my native land. It is famous by the game of KHERBGA (chess like game), which was carved on the top of it by one of my ancestors. It is a living memorial of the spirit of all my family members. My beloved father used to sit on the top of it playing with his little baby I once was.


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