A Sword with Bladed Perfume by A.Fawaz

A poem by Ahmad Fawaz ( Lebanon )
Translated by Sihem Hammouda (Tunisia )

On the battlefield of soul, your spectrum wages
Delusive torrential raids,
Your breaths fall in perfume drizzle,
And with the sunbeam, the fall of smile races,
My soul then is split into a hill scented with your jasmine,
The heart at your gaze, shattered into two battlefields ,
And the soul bursts into whimpers,
That I chant and to which respond your topography’s valleys ,
And the echo soars to the head swaggering in glee,
For the melody of whimper is complete with meeting
Even if meeting was a fantasy,
The voluptuous lips lifted me back from subconscious,
And with life I quiver and feel I ‘m still in love!!

A Sword with Bladed Perfume by A.Fawaz

يغير طيفك على جبهة النفس
غارات وهمية كالطوفان
تتساقط انفاسك زخات عطر
يسابق هطول البسمة نور الشمس
تتشظـىى روحي كتلَ أريج من ياسمينك
وينشطر الوجدان لجبهتين من نظراتك
فتنفجر الروح بآهات متناغمة
أترنم بها فتجيب وديان تضاريسك
وترد الصدى لقمّة الراس المتخايل طربا
فلحن الآه يكتمل باللقاء
حتى ولو كان اللقاء حلما
فالشفاه المختمرة تعيدني من اللاوعي
فأنبض بالحياة.. واشعر أنني ما زلت على قيد الحب.!!
أ.فواز- سيف بحد العطر-

Advertisements

Darkness and Mist

A poem by Abdel Hakim Atiya ( Algeria )
Translated by Sihem Hammouda (Tunisia )

Darkness and Mist

Darkness me overwhelmed,
Mist my cities shrouded,
And sorrow in all roads cloaked.
A train I am,
From the steam age,
Inside a tunnel, blindfolded,
Fumbling for gleams of sunshin
Looking for thy smile ,
Appearing on the twilight.
Sorrowful thou art ,
I , like a candle burnt ,
Toward thy doleful world set out ,
Quit,
Me my muse visited,
Words of longing on paper I sprinkled ,
And exploded into passion.
The blaze of my poem,
With life burst,
I my soul surrendered
To the ocean of your eyes,
My love, I am a man into thy immersed,
A gleam of light, I am
With path, our dream I sharpened And with pens of divine secret fate wrote this passion
I defied the maze of nightmares ,
With thy love in my breaths,
I descended my soul’s defeats,
To ascended your hair tresses.
I truly admit,
I turned you into an immortal story
Because thou art
A woman who outdid Cleopatra
Zenobia and all queens of the East
Deeply-rooted thy echo in the cave s of my soul is,
All distances thou art ,
Every crossroad too .

ظلام و ضباب

غيبني الظلام
ضباب غطى مدائني
حزن لبس كل الطرق
انا مثل قطار
من عصر البخار
مغمض العينين داخل النفق
ابحث عن خيوط الشمس
ابحث عن ابتسامتك
تلوح على محيا الشفق
عندما تحزنين
احترق كالشمعة
نحو عالمك الحزين انطلق
لا اكلم احدا
جائني الالهام
انثر حروف الشوق على الورق
انفجر عشقا
وميض قصيدتي
بالحب ينفلق
ارخيت ذاتي
في بحر عينيك
وانا فيك حبيبتي انسان غرق
اني خيط من الضوء
على الدرب سننت حلمنا
والقدر بأقلام الغيب كتب هذا العشق
حملت شعلة عشقك
تحديت متاهة الكوابيس
وحبك بين انفاسي قد شهق
نزلت من انكسارات ذاتي
صعدت جدائل شعرك
اعترفت بلا بهتان و لا كذب
جعلتك قصة التاريخ
لانك امراة تفوق كيليوباترا
وزنوبيا و كل ملكات الشرق
صداك ضارب في كهوف نفسي
وكل المسافات انت
وكل مفترق الطرق

بن عطية حكيم

I miss blogging so much :) I’m back

Don’t shoot!

Wait Sir  ! Don’t shoot !

I need to comb my tousled  hair,

And wash my stainy face.

Oh !There is a hole in my shoe too

Wait sir  ! I won’t be late ,

I am going to wear my father’s shoes,

They are as big as the  gracious sky

But they fit because I walk like him,

My grand mother told me once .

Have you ever flown a paper plane,Sir ?

There is a hole in my paper plane,

Like the hole in my father’s skull .

Wait Sir, don’t shoot !

There  on that lonely  hill ,

I saw a  flower  this morning,

Do you think my mother will forgive me for

My dishelved clothes?

I didn’t know you’re coming for me .

oh !  I found a flower for your mother  too!

You need to hurry up before  it fades

Sir ,why are your eyes full of tears  ?

Written by arabian roses

 

 

ثورة عشق

.تعاتبني اذا غضبت ولا تفهم ان الرعد يدمدم اشتياقا للمطر

تقف وسط الفوضى التي رسمتها في محرابك  مشدوها

كراهب يقرا رسائل حب لاول مرة

تقرا جنوني في قلم الشفاه المكسر وقارورة العطر المراق

.ولاتفهم سطور حنيني فيها

.هذا ليس جنونا بل ثورة عشق يحتضر في دفتر يومياتك

by arabian roses

Yesss my poem ‘The Storyteller’ has been published on the Voices Project

http://www.thevoicesproject.org/poetry-library/the-storyteller-by-sihem-hammouda

 

A Fighter without arrow dedicated to Marius Mocanu

…Then they lived happily ever after.

Nay, it is neither a folktale an old sailor

Could tell to kindle the flame of adventure

       In the soul of a retired ship dimmed,

Nor a sealed love letter

From an enchantress  to a hermit.

It’s an epic about an ordinary man,

Whose  name will be chanted in battlefields

When fearless soldiers are vanquished by fear.

 Before his exploits, invincible Hercules,

And grand Hannibal would bow in awe,

For unconquerable foes they fought

But inevitable fate he tamed.

It’s an epic about an ordinary man

Who taught fallen heroes that

  Hardship is his majesty’s gift

To strong souls for only

A strong soul could bear hardship

And   when a gift is taken from you

Dig for unnoticed blessing deep in you .

Written by arabian roses