The Date Palm

Yusuf Achmad

Once, my child brought me dates,
“They are a steadfast companion for fasting,” they said.
Though it was not date season,
Still, they fasted, like an unwavering longing for a reunion.

O Date Palm, you grow on barren, silent soil,
In the cracks of deserts, embraced by arid stones.
Yet, you defy the blistering heat,
A symbol of resilience, unyielding amidst hardships.

In the holy scriptures, you are not merely a fruit,
You are a witness to the love of Jesus and Muhammad, heaven’s messengers.
You bridge the chasm,
Between prayers that echo across desolate plains.

Your sweetness heals the heart that has forgotten,
Your gentleness embeds strength in wounds.
In my village, you are the breath of Islam,
To my neighbor, you are the shelter of the Messiah without a father.

You, Date Palm, are a riddle wrapped in wisdom,
In your oddness lies a sanctity never wearied.
One, three, five—fasting completes your oddness with prayers,
Distinguishing habits from faith, you are profound.

In the harsh desert, you offer solace,
Like tender hearts amidst a storm of pride.
Date Palm, you are an endless strength,
For those who savor your eternal taste.

Surabaya, 15-12-2024