جائزة نوبل للأدب
إعلان الفائزين بنوبل للآداب الخميس
9 October,2014
Drunken memory
Madness flowers of the night
18 October,2014

A lover Entertain in crying

Drunken memory

ghada alsamman

A lover Entertain in crying instead of herself

Rain is no longer falls on paper
When I write your name in
Sparrows no longer inhabit the nests and letters and points,
My Pen no longer deep in nostalgic, tries to commit suicide,
When I write the word “Good Bye” for your period
My Inkwell no longer transmits to vast light and blue sea.
She Flows in Glorification messages to your eyes,
Now you turned to oblivion Refrigerated,
As a frozen and abhorrent memory,
As bodies of criminals, that don’t recognize on one of them,
How much I hate canning our love in poems,
For preparing it for buried in coffin that have book edges,
After it was free in forests, prairies and beaches,
Between soor , Baalbek, Broummana and Elarz,
But, you set fire on tree,
Your love was a feast of hope and serenity,
Now become a carnival at psychiatric hospital
His doctors, his fierce crazy…
***
I can’t flatter you as they do…
Don’t Claim that your Gun is neat and transparent,
Your dumdum is talented, your ordnance as Joy Violin
Your Sand barricades are architectural Antiques
Tour massacre masterful “Tactic” for ” human” strategy,
You bathe with Curse of displaced, the disabled and the bereaved…
Slaughtered children Festival,
Hanged them from their hair on Swing
Made from their strip skins shoes for your mercenaries
delights for your chorus pirate, and Looters of alphabet ships
AS they sing ” Faulen &Maphaelin ” For your Glory…
Snakes share the Hiss with them…
Severed hands claps on homeland vacuum
We dying in shelters for wisdom, that we don’t know…
That Glare logos isn’t bread, freedom nor secure,
I can no longer inventing justifications for your seasonal mad
My Skin no longer welcomes your fingerprint,
It’s place at the museum of adult thugs and criminals,
I come from a convoy of fools poets,
Who unaware of advantages of compliment of carrot and stick together
So look for a historian,
Falsifies your history with the dagger, blood, and dislocate eyes
On fifteen years of darkness
Kidnapping feast as hostage in the cellars of your ego

***

Crying running barefoot around the street
Such as terrified children of bombs and mines together
Your Love was as hat of warlock,
Empty, and full of colored and beautifully delusions …
And, when you kiss me I turned from a princess into a frog.
I should be awake, and then sleep for eon of nightmares
I tired from your masks, tongues and your Parrot
Tired of your thugs’ posters, arrogance peacocks…

Looting “Martyrs” in blood and shit winters…

Tired from the outstanding and epidemics ruins in your around…

Fire burning in your feet foothold…

Tired from your lectures about “hard-working”
In the “Bahamas” Hotels and Hawaii” Resorts “…
Tired of your Statement about the “downtrodden”
Written in your own airplane
That you cover your pen in the blackness of Iranian caviar…
Bored of your lectures on” Virtue”
And the smell of champagne blowing out of your mouth,
In spite of your precious French perfume fragrance,
You still smelt on smells of Mummification drugs…
Under your “struggle” raving, counterfeiter and your comrades
Feast became sharing crying with us

Immigration Entices on our selves…
Death raped us in shelters
***
You hadn’t left for us from the feast unless visiting graves…
I run in the vast cemetery of Lebanon…
Ding beloved tombstones with tip of my pen
Get out from it and their blood still bleeding
And ask me: Why you call us! Did something change?

Is the freedom princess returned from her trance?

Festivals of vampires are ended?

Is the feast became an honor guest in and blind hatred and Wailing streets?

And I buried myself in coffins of abashment from them,

I whisper like shamefully lazy pupil: No.. no.. !

The dead blamed me: so Why you call us?

I outpouring of grief, Longing and crying: I miss you!

أضف تعليق

Ghada Al-Samman
Ghada Al-Samman
أنا حمامة وديعة ترفرف مزهوة بثوب الحرية الناصع بعيداً..بعيداً وعالياً..عالياً عن دنس الصيادين
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