{"id":58138,"date":"2021-08-24T10:25:10","date_gmt":"2021-08-24T10:25:10","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/www.worldofculture2020.com\/?p=58138"},"modified":"2021-08-24T10:25:10","modified_gmt":"2021-08-24T10:25:10","slug":"how-i-detest-the-sky-and-the-stars-oh-my-god","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/worldofculture2020.com\/?p=58138","title":{"rendered":"How I detest the sky and the stars, oh my God!"},"content":{"rendered":"
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By Fathi Muhadub | Tunisia<\/span><\/div>\n
Translation from Arabic Dr. Yousef Hanna | Palestine<\/span><\/div>\n<\/div>\n
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\"\"<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
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\u0627\u0644\u0644\u0648\u062d\u0629 \u0644\u0644\u0641\u0646\u0627\u0646 \u0627\u0644\u062f\u0646\u0645\u0627\u0631\u0643\u064a: \u0643\u0631\u064a\u0633\u062a\u064a\u0627\u0646 \u0632\u0647\u0631\u062a\u0645\u0627\u0646<\/span><\/div>\n
And love war in the summer<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
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How I love snipers when they chase away metaphysics<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
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And practice the art of yoga with a crystal eye<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
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How I love the noise of Apache helicopters,<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
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Cowboys on the fallen hill,<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
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The dance of the blind in the pit,<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
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Heart wheels creak,<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
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Soldiers distributing pizza slices to the dead,<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
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Pistachio tree escape from public park,<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
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The falling glass on widows’ heads.<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
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While I’m in an apartment holed up on the run<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
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Ripping my prey with fangs of a blond leopard<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
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Unpack her spine of silver and clouds.<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
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I love the smell of a dead owl,<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
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The smell of severed fingers on the balcony,<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
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The smell of horses running in the wilds of my blood.<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
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I like to masturbate<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
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Under the rain of bombs<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
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The rhythm of the devils’ fresh feet.<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
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I love to gouge out sunny eyes with a sharp tool,<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
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Making good gourds from the skins of dead<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
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I love the bullet that bites my neighbor’s chunky butt<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
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The bullet that resides in the heart,<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
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That grubs in the hostage’s bag of imagination,<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
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Devouring your arched breasts.<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
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O goose full of doubt and gossip,<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
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My pistol has cacao taste<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
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And on my window the saints\u2019 shreds clash with<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
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How I love your bumbling worms<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
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O death.<\/div>\n<\/div>\n