Poetry, homeland, Syria, love, family
Act One She is drunk by starvation She staggered down the stairs The naked ten year old building In an obscure Damascus suburb Is made of brick and cement The stairs are unfinished The walls are full of holes Act Two She walked into the banquet hall Up the few marble steps The Lavish five
أنا ولا شي أنا ولا شي، عم أفنى ولا في بالجيب مصاري و لا حتى دولارات ما عاد عنا أراضي و لا فيه ممتلكات تعي نهاجر بالمي يا محلى هالمي حاجتنا حاجة خطَي أنا و لا شي، عم أغرق أنا و لا شي ساعديني و لحقي ولادك قلب قارب المهربين كلهن على ما يبدو هالك
People like you bother me Selfishness and wannabe People like you disturb me With a nagging frequency Always are asking for more While you are an absentee Constantly taking the credit Your games are very dirty You care about what’s in mirror And no one else do you see Asking others for favors Returning you
She yearned for his hand
In her hand just walking
In the morning breeze
Or sunset stroll talking…
He went with them
To turn a chapter
To make a change
Quarrel with their captor
ماذا أقول لك يا سيدتي فقد عجزت كل أبجدية
وقفنا جنباً لجنبٍ على طرفِ وادي التَيم العذيّة
تحلق عيناي المغمضتين معكِ إلى مخيلةٍ ثرية
نمشي معاً يدً بيدٍ على شطئان الأحلامٍ الوردية
A collection of poems about the homeland, family and love. They are full of the contradictions of patriotism and treason, love and hate, promises and betrayals like the sophisticated life we all suffer enjoyably. Fayha is an old name for Damascus, the city were I was born. It is where I spent my childhood and