عبير الوجدان

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My Beautiful Friend

A warm breeze, found

In the soft words and gentle touch,

Ignites the nights in shadowy winter

And plants hope for spring to come;

A graceful morning dew,

So beautiful and pure,

On bright green leaves

Standing straight toward the sun,

Breathing fresh air to revive souls

Of honesty, loyalty, and nobility;

A rainbow bows to smiley faces

Bringing joy and delight,

المزيد

 *

*

*

*

i 2 by 2 i

Is no longer about

Me or You,

But about how (by)i

Is forced to fly

To leave both 2s

Ironically muse

The cease of fire

In an idle gyre

Of belated truce.i

As if to summon* devils

Do repair the crack

Or give the common

Dear pat on the back!i

What accusation would such summon use

Against devils’ trial in a masquerade,i

Where puppets’ nods are adequate

That war sacrifices are justified

No matter what to abide?!i

What souls can be returned?i

Do they in heaven understand

The reasons of man’s filthy soul

Full of devilish smeary foul

Hands ladling the innocents’ blood

From stagnant red lakes after flood?i

Do the grief of the loss

Be recompensed?i

المزيد

** 

*

Oh, Efreet*,

Of the other world,

The hidden spirit

Of secrets untold.

I call thee

To rise from the dark

And bestow

Thy fiery curse

Upon little souls!

Merciless shall burst

The bloody river

In Gaza.

All shall drink from

The open wound!

All shall sink

In the silence of doom!

And I, Satan,

Shall be the master

المزيد

-

-

I see Satan laughing at me,

For I’m chained against his plot

While the sound of struggle

Pleases his dance!

Though the words of God

Send him away,

Though he vanishes

As I pray,

Yet,

His laugh is echoing

Sharply to kill ears,

المزيد

Deception

When I see the moon’s pale face,

He reminds me

Of that day from the past:

A green field sparkled in dew

Where I ran bared-feet –

Shrieking with laughter,

Having neither worries nor fears.

Yet, in the middle

stood a tree.

Taken by its glittering leaves,

As eager to shelter in its shade,

For the noon had begun to bite.

As I made it there,

I saw another innocent feature

Sitting on the branch,

“Want to climb up?” You said.

An irresistible invitation to join

And see the field from the top.

You pointed at a golden lake

Where meadow of roses I hadn’t observe,

المزيد

Would it matter if they lose or win,

If striving for its sake

Does justify the sin?

Where the world of morals

Know not what’s in their bin

Of rotten fleshes

Playing hide and seek,

Their hearts are weak

Against the temptation within.

When hearts’ goals

Are dwelling in desires;

When secrets born

Beneath illegal fires;

When joys defy

All barbed wires

Around the prison of don’ts;

Fears vanished from blood

Washed away by a flood

المزيد

Long winter nights:

Where under the snowflakes,

The whip of frost flogs

Those bared twigs;

And the roofs of houses

Covered in white blankets;

And those radiant lights out of windows

المزيد

The Beggar 

Waited her turn, in a male branch

Where there was none for female,

Eager for her check to be paid.

What took so long!

* * *

The door is pushed

A very oldman with a silver-head cane

Came in un-ironed beige thobe,

Carrying a large sack

Like the one for potatoes.

And with pure Hijazi accent

Asked the banker to count his money-

All were one, five and ten riyals,

Old and new, worn or clean!

The man called for an aid

Just to arrange the piles of money.

They became three:

The banker, the oldman and a cleaner.

Such a scene weird and funny!

* * *

But to her, the oldman’s voice was familiar

المزيد

Well

I am the Well,

But no normal one,

Which gives water

Of bitter tears.

Isolated from the eyes

On anonymous land,

Away from livings.

Here I can

No more care.

No one dare

To ask why

المزيد

 Agony

In agony,

Where no signs

Neither a fingerprint are left,

Except a hidden mask,

A drop of tear falls like an icicle

Cannot choke the torch.

المزيد