I Write Poetry
This one is somehow old. I wrote it in Arabic, and I provided the translation for it, as best as I could.
---
و لكن لمن أبوح...
عن جرحٍ ما فارقني
رافقني.. حتى صار رفيقاً في الدروب
مزقني... كتمزق الشمس لحظة الغروب
و لن يتوب...
و اسأل نفسي ما انا بمذنب
حتى اعاقب بألم لا يستكين..
الم يسكن جسداً بلا روح
جسدٌ تمزقت احشاؤه من كثرة الجروح
و روحٌ تائهةٌ تبحث على السطوح
عن مأوى فيه تنوح
---
But, whom can I open up to...
About a wound that never left my side
walked by my side... until it became a road friend
teared me apart... like the rupture of sun at sunset
and it won't repent...
and I ask myself, what am I guilty of
to be punished with a never-ending agony...
pain living in a soulless body
its insides been torn apart due to many wounds
and a lost soul searching on roofs
for a sanctuary to weep in.
---
و لكن لمن أبوح...
عن جرحٍ ما فارقني
رافقني.. حتى صار رفيقاً في الدروب
مزقني... كتمزق الشمس لحظة الغروب
و لن يتوب...
و اسأل نفسي ما انا بمذنب
حتى اعاقب بألم لا يستكين..
الم يسكن جسداً بلا روح
جسدٌ تمزقت احشاؤه من كثرة الجروح
و روحٌ تائهةٌ تبحث على السطوح
عن مأوى فيه تنوح
---
But, whom can I open up to...
About a wound that never left my side
walked by my side... until it became a road friend
teared me apart... like the rupture of sun at sunset
and it won't repent...
and I ask myself, what am I guilty of
to be punished with a never-ending agony...
pain living in a soulless body
its insides been torn apart due to many wounds
and a lost soul searching on roofs
for a sanctuary to weep in.