What Marwan Barghouti said to Ben Gvir: "From my cell, I see you collapsing."

From my cell,

I see you, my tormentor, decaying.

You build a prison of steel,

but you imprison my body, not my soul.

You tighten the chains,

but you do not realize that faith is broader than the cell,

and that when will ignites,

it burns your walls without fire.

You think I am isolated behind time

that I am forgotten,

that you are the jailer of a defenseless people

No,

you are the jailer of an idea,

trying to suffocate it,

but you baptize it with eternity.

From here, from this darkness,

I see the end of all who thought they were gods,

who built the domes of extermination,

on the corpses of the innocent,

and took refuge inside a missile or a tank,

All the criminals of extermination

had their moment of glory...

then a pit.

They had an army,

then a court.

And they had a grip,

then they were stripped even of their names suddenly,

As for us,

we have nothing but faith,

and it is enough for us.

We have nothing but the spirit,

but it cannot be broken.

I do not see you as strong,

I see you afraid of a name,

of a dream and a smile

of a poem written by a martyr's mother,

of a stone in a child's hand,

of a hymn coming from Gaza under the rubble,

of a generation that will explode like a bomb

From my cell,

I build my state,

and you?

You condemn yourself to remain in fear,

between wall and wall,

between a checkpoint and a settlement

We will emerge,

but you will not emerge from your fear,

from the curse of history,

from blood that cannot be erased.

From the echo of death in Gaza

We are a people imprisoned to live,

and you are a force that arrests to avoid collapse,

but it drowns in darkness,

You wander in my prison as if you own