If I Must Die by Refaat Alareer
A Kite from a Tragedy
If I must die,
you must live
to tell my story
to sell my things
to buy a piece of cloth
and some strings,
(make it white with a long tail.)
so that a child, somewhere in Gaza
while looking heaven in the eye
awaiting his dad, who left in a blaze—
and bid no one farewell
not even to his flesh
not even to himself—
sees the kite, my kite you made, flying up above
and thinks for a moment an angel is there
bringing back love
If I must die
let it bring hope
let it be a tale
Hello and welcome to Words That Burn. The podcast takes a closer look at poetry. This week’s poem is If I Must Die by Palestinian poet Refaat Alareer.
At the time of recording, Palestine has been under assault from the Israeli State and Military for over a year. These events were triggered by the events of October 7, 2023, in which a terrorist attack was committed by Hamas. In response to this, Israel’s politicians and military have used a single terrorist attack committed by a group of individuals that in no way represented all Palestinians to wage a genocide against an entire people.
During his lifetime, Refaat Alareer was a tireless voice, speaking out against the oppression brought about by the Israeli State against the Palestinian people. In his mission to raise awareness of the atrocities endured by his fellow countrymen, Alareer was stoic and steadfast. He would constantly use both his academic and artistic voice to speak truth to power. This unflinching need to document and witness earned him a reputation as a titan of Palestinian poetry. His contemporaries often praised him for this, with his friend Yousef Aljamal stating that Alareer was ‘’the giant of the Palestinian narrative coming out of Gaza.” (Antoon 2023).
You’ll notice that I’m writing about Alareer in the past tense and that is because he was tragically murdered in an Israeli airstrike, alongside his his brother, his brother’s son, his sister and her three children on December 6th, 2023. (Antoon 2023)
It is a bitter irony that this poem actually came to pass for him, and yet, in it’s tragically prophetic nature, it is a testament to the fragility of life for Palestinians. When Alareer penned this poem, I’m sure he was aware that it was more a prediction than a thought experiment.
Indeed, life has never been more fragile in Palestine. A year into a genocide and eradication of a people and their culture, the death toll is staggering, and the lack of action or effort from the international community is damning.
When this conflict began, I started to cover Palestinian poets and their work in the hope of raising some awareness of the conflict and just how long the country has faced these insurmountable odds. It is soul-destroying that this year long anniversary even needs to be marked.
As with all the other episodes, I’m including a donation link to the Ireland Palestine Solidarity Campaign or IPSC, in the description of this episode. I urge you, if you have anything to spare, consider donating it to this organisation that has worked tirelessly to provide aid and support to those still trapped in Palestine.
There is every chance that you’ve heard this poem before. In the wake of Alareer’s death, it was shared far and wide on social media. It reached a level of virality that has made it internationally recognised, with many impromptu translations into other languages being created in order to carry it’s message even further. (Altoma 2024).
This wildfire virality was written by Journalist Alex Scopic, who wrote in testament to Gaza and indeed Palestine’s enduring poetic culture:
And in Gaza and the West Bank, a new generation of poets persists. The most famous, of course, is Refaat Alareer, who was murdered by an Israeli bomb in December 2023, and whose poem “If I Must Die” has rapidly become one of the most read and translated of the 21st century. (Skopic 2024)
Such sudden popularity, combined with the urgent need to amplify Palestinian voices, meant that certain misconceptions followed the poem, with many sources claiming that it was, in fact, the final poem Alareer wrote before he died. Whilst excellent mythmaking, this is not in any way true. (Altoma 2024)
The true story of the poem, I think is actually more of a testament to the longstanding commitment, grit and determination that Alareer had towards ensuring the Palestinian cause and voice would be acknowledged by as many people as possible.
This poem was in fact one of Refaat Alareers first attempts to write directly in English, as he believed that in order to truly raise the alarm on what Palestinians were being forced to endure, the message should come in the form that could be most widely understood. For him, this was the English language. (Abusalim 2023) He once stated in an interview:
… as much as I believe [in], and love, translation, I also believe that we need to train ourselves to express our concerns in the target language, here English…. Palestinians who are able to speak for themselves in other languages should do that directly… (Altoma 2024)
This desire to help Palestinians speak for themselves is a defining trait of Alareer’s academic career and would dedicate himself wholly to it, teaching countless Palestinian’s English. His willingness to speak truth to power both in Arabic and English placed him in constant danger, one that the poet knew may one day end his life. Despite that, he continued to channel his message, his call for awareness of Palestinain suffering. His dedication is clear in the opening lines of this poem:
If I must die,
you must live
to tell my story
to sell my things
to buy a piece of cloth
and some strings,
(make it white with a long tail.)
The opening two lines are a wonderful recognition that an individuals death, if I must die, is not the death of cause; you must live. It is a recognition that a cause must go on , despite the grim toll it takes. Simultaneously, it is our speaker’s, whom, given the personal and tragic nature of the poem, we can be certain is Alareer himself, who accepts that his own death is not so significant that the world must stop. The entire poem is his hope that his death might mean something. I think it’s important to note that this is not some self-aggrandising narrative of martyrdom, because following those first two lines, he clarifies that the living need to tell my story , he still wants to be remembered, his message, here referred to as his story, must go on.
That need to be useful is continued when he speaks of selling his things; after all, he has no use for them anymore and instead uses them to buy some supplies.
These initial fabrics are not initially clear in what they might be as a whole, but the final line of this section within parentheses gives us a hint and simultaneously establishes Alareer’s technical skill as a poet. White is the symbol of peace, Alareer’s hope for Palestine one day and the mention of the tail is a pun that links back beautifully to the notion of a story being a tale. If our speakers lives had to be cut short, at least let their story live longer.
I think this final line is a continuation of Alareer’s need to address the Palestinian cause using the language and culture of those most likely to affect change in the country. Occasionally Palestinian poetry has been criticised, completely unjustly, as being too simplistic. (Ismael 1981) It is that simplicity that often places it outside the western canon and so sees it dismissed. In using this small linguistic flourish, Alareer is ensuring his poem is read on more than just a surface level; therefore, it will be read and studied.
In the next section, Alareer builds on his symbol and his hope for it; hope being the key word.
so that a child, somewhere in Gaza
while looking heaven in the eye
awaiting his dad, who left in a blaze—
and bid no one farewell
not even to his flesh
not even to himself—
sees the kite, my kite you made, flying up above
and thinks for a moment an angel is there
bringing back love
The next two lines clarify exactly who he intends to be a symbol of hope for: the children of Gaza. In a sense, he recognises that he cannot be a true symbol for adults living in Palestine. They have already seen and been forced to endure far too much. There is likely very little that could inspire them now. He provides a little light in this idea of hope but takes it away as the children in question are staring heaven in the eye. They may die any day now; they are constantly facing the afterlife.
He compounds this sense of trauma and loss by detailing the death of father. The instantaneous death that claims many palestinians is documented here. They are murdered by air strikes, bombings and bullets. They die quicker than they can comprehend what is happening, especially if death comes from above. This father had no time to say goodbye, no time to make peace with his departure and no time to recognise his last moments. It is a senseless, undignified method of execution that robs the Palestinian people of any kind of goodbye to loved ones or acceptance. They are alive one moment and incinerated the next.
From here, Alareer clarifies his earlier image of cloth and fabric, solidifying it into one of the most enduring images fo Palestinian resistance and peace: the kite.
sees the kite, my kite you made, flying up above
and thinks for a moment an angel is there
bringing back love
In Gaza, kites have become powerful symbols of resilience and resistance, transcending their role as mere playthings. (Black 2024) They represent hope and defiance, particularly for the internally displaced, offering moments of psychological relief and a sense of freedom amidst ongoing conflict. Kite flying fosters community and cultural identity, with events like the UNRWA's Summer Games uniting children and reinforcing collective spirit. Additionally, kites have been used as tools of peaceful protest, carrying messages of peace and resistance, and embodying the enduring hope for a better future among the Palestinian people.
The reason that Kites became the basis of this symbol is rooted in both historical and practical contexts. Their long-standing cultural significance laid the groundwork for deeper meanings to emerge, while the simplicity of their construction makes kite flying an inclusive activity, accessible to people of all economic backgrounds. In a region where movement is heavily restricted, kites symbolise freedom, offering a momentary escape from the confines of conflict. Events such as those organised by UNRWA foster community solidarity, and the use of kites in peaceful protests during the "March of Return" (UNRWA 2019) has reinforced their role as tools of non-violent resistance. Furthermore, the psychological relief they provide, especially to children, is crucial in maintaining mental well-being amidst hardship. International recognition of kite-flying events has amplified the symbolic power of kites, making them a global emblem of the enduring spirit of the people in Gaza.
Here the kite made from his death becomes Alareer’s possession—my kite. It is something for people to look to in the sky that isn’t missiles or drones, a reminder that things can be good again and that sometimes things happen that are bringing back love.
It would be easy for any man or poet in Alareer’s position to be bitter when faced with the overwhelming odds hell bent on eradicating him and his people from the earth. It would be nearly impossible not to turn cynical to be twisted into someone hard and angry. Refaat Alareer defied those odds though and constantly strived for peace and hope. His final lines in this poem make that unmistakably clear:
If I must die
let it bring hope
let it be a tale
Each of these simple lines is a callback and reinforcement of Alareer’s message. In stating, "If I must die, let it bring hope; let it be a tale," Alareer expresses an ultimate wish that his death —unavoidable as it may feel in the war-torn reality of Gaza — is not in vain. He wants his life, and the lives of countless others lost in the conflict, to stand for something meaningful. The idea of his story becoming a "tale" to inspire others reinforces the central theme that, even in death, the memory of the oppressed should live on, providing solace, hope, and purpose for future generations.
This poem, then, is not just about one man’s potential death. It is about a collective story of survival, memory, and defiance. Alareer asks not for vengeance or despair in the face of death but for hope to endure, for the tale of his people to live on through the hands and hearts of those who survive him. His words are a testament to the enduring human spirit, even under the most brutal and unforgiving circumstances.
Those unforgiving circumstances hang at the edges of each line in this poem. Children facing death, missing fathers, immolation and erasure are only a moment away. It is a poem of hope that refuses to turn a blind eye to the horror it hopes to deliver people from. It was a horror he himself was unable to escape from and we must assume he could not bid farewell to himself. It is a reality that thousands have experienced and are facing.
It is a year and 11 days since the horrible events of October 7th, but the Israeli state has used that single moment to inflict a year of genocide on a nation. As I’ve already stated, the atrocities being committed against the Palestinian are only increasing, with no sign of stopping in sight.The international community has done little to nothing to help and hope is more a faint glimmer than a possibility, but that doesn’t mean we can give up. I’ve placed a link in the description to donate to the Ireland Palestine Solidarity Campaign, a group working tirelessly to raise money for Palestinian relief. Please consider donating whatever you can.
What did you think of the poem? As always, this is my interpretation, and I’d love to hear yours. If you’d like to get in touch with me, there are a few ways to do so:
Words That Burn is written and produced by me, Benjamin Collopy.
Thank you for taking the time to listen to the podcast once again.
References
Abusalim, Jehad. 2023. “Refaat Alareer Was a Brilliant Poet and Intellectual—He Was Also My Teacher.” The Nation, December 15, 2023. https://www.thenation.com/article/archive/tribute-to-refaat-alareer-teacher-writer/.
Altoma, Salih J. 2024. “The Story of a Poem: Refaat Alareer's 'If I Must Die.'” arablit & arablit quarterly, June 21, 2024. https://arablit.org/2024/06/21/the-story-of-a-poem-refaat-alareers-if-i-must-die/.
Antoon, Sinan. 2023. “"If I Must Die," A Poem by Refaat Alareer.” In These Times. https://inthesetimes.com/article/refaat-alareer-israeli-occupation-palestine.
Black, Michelle. 2024. “Resilience, Resistance, and Nation-Building Among Internally Displaced Persons: Kites as a Means of Transcending Displaced Persons: Kites as a Means of Transcending Displacement.” The Graduate Centre, no. (6): https://academicworks.cuny.edu/gc_etds/5912/.
Ismael, Jacueline S. 1981. “The Alienation of Palestine in Palestinian Poetry.” Arab Studies Quarterly, 3, no. 1 (Winter): 43-55.
Skopic, Alex. 2024. “How to Write a Good Political Poem.” Current Affairs, March 4, 2024. https://www.currentaffairs.org/news/2024/03/how-to-write-a-good-political-poem.
UNRWA. 2019. “Gasa—great march of return.” UNRWA. https://www.unrwa.org/campaign/gaza-great-march-return.