Appearing with the hemorrhage of worry
Poet: Abdel latif Moubarak (Egyptian Poet)
Appearing with the hemorrhage of worry
Upon every face of stingy people,
Closer, like the doors of fear,
Crossing the core
The sighs of hunger.
I’m followed by those who obey
The shady deals
And bags of blood.
A scream and a drop into a frail body,
Fallen under a shovel’s tread and a curse
From a land that’s not his,
In an old room…
Meaning… Injustice.
My heart is suspended between its streets,
Shop windows carrying the dreams of the poor
Unlike those who sold them.
I weep for their pain
And melt… into the dream.
The time of forced labor is returning,
And feudalism, and the heedless life.
What kind of revolution is this that forgets me?
In the garb of its robe…
My inkwell and my feather.
So that I may record its principles
Written above them:
“Preserve silence.”
A ministerial dream… in a silver cup,
Containing either a duck or a bowl of dread.
Hadi ya Badi
My country is lost
In a state of Kif
The female genital mutilation still bewilders
All the turbans being photographed
On a remote satellite channel,
The castration is just beginning to take root
Inside the idea that will become universal.
O, my destiny, be truthful!
Your tears are still carrying the truth,
Overturning the scale of the film’s tragedy.
Appearing… with… the hemorrhage… of worry.
—
