انت قصيدتي باللغه الانجليزية والفرنسية بناء على رغبة القراء غير العرب Translated by : Aicha Alaoui ( Ittouhammou) Nothing resembles you Nothing resembles me when I die O ! Death ! introduce me to some friends And, if we need you you will come running You are my poem If the evening passes by And knocks me down Keeping me strapped to the bed I will no longer carry the poem Poets sometimes lag back of their train They play back scenes I like Oumr Ibnu Hind When he carries his sword To remodel the poem The same old poem The war lurks in us Declaes itself You are my poem Poets seldom come back from their battles The first scream in war Starts from a poem And you are my poem You are my last call to war There is nothing after, After you Neither before, Before you I extend myself and then return Woe ! O ! poem ! If the evening passes And, I am not back I will leave some proses hanging on the door Maybe they pass by Break your absence And remove nests that grow on the poem. Poem by : مصطفى القرنة
Posted on: Tue, 25 Jun 2013 05:18:25 +0000
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