小芯薪褟褕薪懈泻 薪邪 蟹邪胁褌褉邪
Poem
袩芯褌褉褨褋泻邪薪懈泄 覒褉褍薪褌
袪芯蟹斜懈褌褨 写芯褉芯谐懈
袨斜胁褍谐谢械薪褨 斜褍写褨胁谢褨
袩芯褉褨蟹邪薪褨 泻芯褉写芯薪懈
小褌懈褋薪褍褌褨 泻褍谢邪泻懈
啸芯谢芯写薪褨 写芯屑褨胁泻懈
袟邪褌褟谐薪褍褌械 褏屑邪褉邪屑懈 薪械斜芯
袟邪谢懈褕邪褞褌褜褋褟 褉邪薪懈, 邪谢械 泄 褋芯薪褟褕薪懈泻懈 褌械卸
袟 蟹械屑谢褨 褨 锌械褔邪谢褨 锌芯褋褌邪褦 褦写懈薪邪 泻褉邪褋邪.
袟芯谢芯褌懈泄 胁邪褉褌芯胁懈泄 薪邪写褨褩.
袊褩 锌芯谢褍屑'褟, 蟹邪薪褍褉械薪械 胁 褋芯薪褑械, 谐芯褉懈褌褜 褟褋泻褉邪胁芯.
效褍褦 泻褉懈泻懈 胁褨泄薪懈, 邪谢械 薪械 胁'褟薪械.
袊褩 泻芯褉褨薪薪褟 褉芯褋褌械 谐谢懈斜芯泻芯, 褋褌懈褉邪褞褔懈 褕褉邪屑懈 胁褨泄薪懈.
袧褨褟泻邪 泻褉芯胁 薪械 屑芯卸械 蟹邪锌谢褟屑褍胁邪褌懈 褩褩 蟹芯谢芯褌褨 锌械谢褞褋褌泻懈
袧褨褟泻械 谐芯褉械 薪械 胁邪卸懈褌褜 薪邪褋褌褨谢褜泻懈, 褖芯斜 蟹褨谐薪褍褌懈 褩褩 褋褌械斜谢芯
袧褨褟泻邪 胁褨泄薪邪 薪械 屑芯卸械 褉芯蟹斜懈褌懈 褩褩 褋械褉褑械, 芯褋褟褟薪械 褋芯薪褑械屑
袧褨褟泻褨 泻芯褉写芯薪懈 薪械 蟹屑芯卸褍褌褜 蟹邪泻褉懈褌懈 褩褩 褋锌芯胁薪械薪懈泄 薪邪写褨褩 锌芯谐谢褟写
袧褨褟泻懈泄 锌褉邪锌芯褉 薪械 屑邪泄芯褉懈褌褜 褋屑褨谢懈胁褨褕械, 薪褨卸 褋芯薪褟褕薪懈泻 薪邪 胁褨褌褉褨
孝芯屑褍 褟 写邪褉褍褞 褌芯斜褨
袙褨薪械褑褜 褋胁褨褌谢邪.
袟械褉薪芯 屑懈褉褍.
袛芯褉芯谐褍 写芯 褋锌褉邪胁械写谢懈胁芯褋褌褨.
小芯薪褟褕薪懈泻 写谢褟 蟹邪胁褌褉邪褕薪褜芯谐芯 写薪褟
Translation
Cracked soil
Crumbled roads
Charred buildings
Cut borders
Clenched fists
Cold homes
Clouded skies
Some wounds remain, but so do sunflowers
From soil and sorrow a single beauty emerges
A golden sentinel of hope
Its sun-dipped flames burning bright
Hearing the cries of war, but still it does not wither
Its roots grow deep, erasing scars of war
No blood can stain its golden petals
No grief weighs heavy enough to bend its stem
No war can shatter its sunlit heart
No border can block its hopeful gaze
No flag waves more bravely than a sunflower in the wind
So here I give you
A crown of brightness
A seed of peace
A road to justice
A sunflower for tomorrow
Explanation
This is an original poem, inspired by Ukraine鈥檚 enduring spirit. The sunflower is a national emblem of Ukraine and is a symbol of light and peace. It is deeply imbedded in Ukraine鈥檚 culture and has become an international symbol of resilience. I decided to include this powerful symbol in the poem to convey how, despite hardship, people must turn towards peace and avoid division. The moral of the poem is to portray the importance of perseverance and staying strong, however harsh life may seem. I was born in Odesa, in Ukraine and my mother and her parents have live d in Ukraine their whole life. Even since moving to the UK, the language has become a permanent piece of me. The war in Ukraine has affected many families, including mine. It brought along feelings of fear, grief and overwhelming sadness. There is constant uncertainty of the future due to the threat of violence affecting family who still live in Ukraine, and sometimes it is hard to see the light at the end of the tunnel. That being said, we remain resilient and hopeful even when life is tough. We stay strong just like the sunflower.
De Conqu锚te 脿 Coexistence
Poem
Je suis venue pour r茅gner
J鈥檃i franchi les mers,
Avec des lois et l鈥檃rrogance des empires.
Je parle fort. Je voulais tout dominer:
Les mots, les noms, le silence, les souvenirs.
Mais le sol 茅tait ancien.
Il chantait d茅j脿 dans mille langues.
Le vent murmurait, 鈥淎hlan鈥 (Bienvenue),
Et le c猫dre m鈥檃 regard茅e sans peur.
J鈥檃i vu l鈥檃rabe, fluide comme le Litani,
Dor茅 comme un vers ancien.
Et l鈥檃nglais passait, rapide et jeune,
茅crit sur les murs, parl茅 dans les rues,
Accompagn茅 de l鈥檃rmenien doux,
Du syriaque gentil, et du kurde m茅lodieux.
Il y avait de la place pour moi.
Pour tous.
Aucune langue effac茅e,
Mais des voix qui s鈥檈ntrelacent
Comme des branches d鈥檕livier
Alors j鈥檃i chang茅.
Je suis entr茅e doucement,
Dans les caf茅s, les chansons, les magasins,
Les sourires.
鈥溍嘺 va, habibi?鈥 (mon cher)
J鈥檃i d茅pos茅 mes armes. J鈥檃i 茅cout茅.
Je ne suis plus l鈥檈nvahisseuse.
Je suis l鈥檌nvit茅e.
Je ne remplace plus; je me m锚le.
Je m鈥檃dapte. Je vis.
Je suis venue pour r茅gner,
Mais maintenant je parle 脿 voix basse.
Je n鈥檃i pas disparu; j鈥檃i 茅volu茅.
Je ne suis plus seulement fran莽aise.
Je suis devenue francophone.
Partag茅e, vivante, Une langue parmi d鈥檃utres,
Et pourtant enti猫re.
Translation
I came to rule.
I crossed the seas
With laws and the arrogance of empires.
I spoke loudly. I wanted to dominate it all:
Words, names, silence, memories.
But the ground was ancient.
It already sang in a thousand tongues.
The wind whispered, 鈥淎hlan鈥 (Welcome),
And the cedar looked at me without fear.
I saw Arabic, fluid like the Litani,
Golden like an old verse.
And English passed by, quick and young,
Written on walls, spoken in streets,
Accompanied by soft Armenian,
Gentle Syriac, and melodic Kurdish.
There was space for me.
For all.
No language erased,
But voices intertwined
Like olive branches.
So I changed.
I entered softly,
Into caf茅s, songs, shops,
And smiles.
鈥溍嘺 va, habibi?鈥 (How are you, my dear?)
I laid down my arms. I listened.
I am no longer the invader.
I am the guest.
I no longer replace; I blend.
I adapt. I live.
I came to rule,
But now I speak softly.
I have not disappeared; I have evolved.
I am no longer just French.
I have become Francophone.
Shared, alive, One language among others,
And yet whole.
Commentary
I wrote this poem to explore my multilingual identity, but instead of making it about languages fighting for dominance, I wanted to show how they can coexist and how they can actually make each other stronger. No language or linguistic identity needs to be erased or die for another to replace it; every language can have a place in a country like Lebanon that welcomes diversity. The poem, written from the imagined perspective of the French language, traces its transformation from a tool of colonial power to a voice of cultural coexistence. Arriving in Lebanon with the intent to dominate, French confronts an ancient and richly multilingual land where Arabic is fluid and where languages like English (another recent arrival), Armenian, Syriac, and Kurdish are already deeply woven into the everyday life of the Lebanese people. Taken aback by this unexpected linguistic landscape, which seems welcoming and fearless rather than hostile to this foreign intruder, French gradually yields rather than sticking to its mission of replacing these voices. It listens. It adapts. It finds itself no longer the centre, but one voice among many. In recognising the beauty and resilience of Lebanon鈥檚 linguistic landscape, French evolves. It no longer defines itself solely as the language of France, but as Francophone: a shared, living language shaped by those who speak it. The poem is ultimately a celebration of reconciliation, humility, coexistence and appreciation of multilingual identity. It shows that languages, like people, can change and evolve, and in doing so, become more complete.