{"id":62002,"date":"2021-10-08T05:16:41","date_gmt":"2021-10-08T05:16:41","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/www.worldofculture2020.com\/?p=62002"},"modified":"2021-10-08T05:16:41","modified_gmt":"2021-10-08T05:16:41","slug":"sleeping-prince-in-a-quiet-boat-packed-with-lanterns-2","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/worldofculture2020.com\/?p=62002","title":{"rendered":"Sleeping prince in a quiet boat packed with lanterns"},"content":{"rendered":"
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From Arabic Dr. Yousef Hanna | Palestine<\/strong><\/span><\/div>\n
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By Fathi Muhadub | Tunisia<\/strong><\/span><\/div>\n<\/div>\n
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(To the soul of the very dear poet, Mohamed Al-Sagheer Awlad Ahmed)<\/strong><\/span><\/div>\n<\/div>\n
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<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
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<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
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The obituary thunderbolt impinges<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
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On my chest slab<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
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Like two wretched trains colliding<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
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In the soul tunnel crowded with victims.<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
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\/\/\/<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
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Huge fire destroys head tower<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
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Two deep sighs cross<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
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The body heights.<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
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\/\/\/<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
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I look like an old abandoned castle<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
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Cursed summer lands on it<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
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From the bricks of fire.<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
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I peel the void like a rat<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
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While the contrasts bark below<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
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The hillside of the ankle.<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
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\/\/\/<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
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Sophistical day drags me by my severed tail<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
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As if I’m a wounded eagle<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
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Overfills a deserted monastery with Squawking.<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
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\/\/\/<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
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A sunny bird<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
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Was run over by the mourners’ rattles.<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
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His feathers fell to shreds<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
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In the air holes.<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
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What if this disheartened sparrow slips from the mourning fingers?<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
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\/\/\/<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
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Not a single horse left<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
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to keep fighting<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
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Far from the burial margin<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
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Where many dead sprouts<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
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In its spacious hill…<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
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Where nature is pure sunset.<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
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\/\/\/<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
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Obituary hat slaps me<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
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I flop (like a sea bow fish)<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
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in a hunter’s trap<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
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Tames his claws to receive<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
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Drowned algae.<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
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While our poor neighbor’s cloud is eating,<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
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The light with a spoon<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
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It was split into two transparent balconies<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
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Taking leave of the prince’s childhood<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
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Sleeping at the bottom of a boat.<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
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While the globe looks like a frightened bird<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
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Pursued by two transparent tears.<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
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While the orchestra (The Grand Duke’s Owls)<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
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Ignites<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
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A night funeral at the tops of words.<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
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While there is an armed pigeon<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
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Heartily wails<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
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In the arms<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
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Of an old aged pine.<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
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\/\/\/<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
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My heart beats break like a stray duck<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
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In a painful lake<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
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Burned birds climb up<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
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From my head nozzle<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
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My face glass falls to pieces<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
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Heavy and destructive…<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
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My face that in its square<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
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Night and Day Soldiers are fighting<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
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As my feet sag<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
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Like an old woman’s lips in the night watch,<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
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Its last darker part<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
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While my mother is clenching her fingers<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
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Raising a flock of sorrows<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
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In her personal museum…<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
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While a dark lion is unloading his load<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
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In a ferry…<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
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\/\/\/<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
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My mouth is a well<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
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Words rise from its depths<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
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Like nuns in black garments<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
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They don’t rush, but blowing like fireflies.<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
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They travel miles of mourning<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
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In the face icon…<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
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My voice of a frightened ostrich flock<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
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Freezes in the air…<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
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\/\/\/<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
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This obituary granted me only a shot<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
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In the heart<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
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No one noticed the bush<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
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Of this drooling erase…<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
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The homey howling is attacking me<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
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From the top of the balcony…<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
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Two hurtful tears sting me as if<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
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A renegade wasp builds a luxury apartment<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
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In my face features…<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
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The bilharzia dragon never fought me again<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
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But the bitter darkness blew me away<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
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And its very disgusting voice bit me…<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
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\/\/\/<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
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My ungrateful dog – without proofs –<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
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Is a straw figurine<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
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Eaten by the farewell cinder during a nap…<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
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\/\/\/<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
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I won’t let the overcrowded obituary with clouds<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
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whose heart is teeming with bats,<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
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To shed the gray of nihilism<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
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In front of the family mirror<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
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Or to turn off the orchid flower<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
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With his personal mist.<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
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\/\/\/<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
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Waiting for you a friend<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
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Wielding Descartes’ sword<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
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Your dead friend in childhood clothes<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
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He never confessed to the Pope<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
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\/\/\/<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
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waiting for you a friend<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
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wielding Descartes’ sword<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
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Your dead friend in childhood clothes<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
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He never confessed to the Pope<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
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About steady ground.<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
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Whispering: The body is an orange garden<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
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Guarded by a singing concierge<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
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(Tutankhamun)\u2026<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
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A Circassian prince is waiting for you<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
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With rare jewelry…<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
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Native Americans pull carts<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
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Filled with silver and blessings.<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
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A childhood awaits you, shines at the end of the corridor.<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
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A god without claws.<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
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Shoe wiper promised to the bat sounds of semiotic.<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
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An old man’s grave barks all night long<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
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Sleep does not take him until a cold moon raid him<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
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Or until your hand cut off in war touches him…<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
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A polite sun awaits you in the cafeteria<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
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Cleans the absurd waiter’s hat<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
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From the clamor of mob.<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
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Has grandchildren sleeping downstairs<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
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Under the rubble of oblivion…<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
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They will never wake up…<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
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Has daring beavers draw on contradictions<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
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to the dinner table…<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
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Has ungrateful ones in front of the laurel<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
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Where a meek spider weaves<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
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Transparent suit for the apostle<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
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Where the shepherds wait for the brightness of proofs<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
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Or for a miracle explosion from the fingers of a beggar…<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
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A weary sun sitting on an old chair<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
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Do not take, but give beautiful lamps to the blind.<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
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Giant wings to hemiplegic patients.<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
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A shoemaker awaits you, picking up the boots of the future<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
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Sweeping evening mirrors<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
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With his thick feathers<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
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A subconscious mist lifts him to the horizon of sleep.<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
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Waiting for you a cleaner<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
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Firmly reflecting on the ridges of the fringe<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
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Sweeps her bad luck<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
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And her hands are pointed towards the blue hill.<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
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Waiting for you<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
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Zarqaa\u2019 al Yamama over the bridge<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
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She is haunted by the savage smell of coffee<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
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Launches the bird of sight<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
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In the spacious spaces and tells you a secret:<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
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Your paradise that you made with your own great hands<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
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Are teeming with flustered poets…<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
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Broken poets are waiting for you<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
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They fall into the abyss of erasure, one by one.<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
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Nothing left but their psalms<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
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Sings under a huge oak called Oblivion…<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
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Our neighbor’s rooster<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
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With a wooden voice full of curses,<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
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Who drinks your poems in his solitude,<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
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To become more rooted in modernity.<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
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The remains of your royal death<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
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Displaced by an episode of melancholia.<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
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A sensual woman is waiting for you,<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
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Fortified by metaphor power,<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
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Absorbing light saps from the meteor nipple,<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
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Gives you an inherent day<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
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To mourn your coffin without a mediator<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
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To her lush room…<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
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Mysterious companions are waiting for you<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
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They drink wine<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
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While the words are maids distributing cups and bowls<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
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They go to the hall of the past<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
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On the tip of their ankles…<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
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They fill their pockets with rainbows<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
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And when they fly to the future<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
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They ride strange ideas tracing out<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
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Things scrupulously…<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
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The Knower (Pythagoras) is waiting for you<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
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Lurking around your house (the Rad\u00e8sian)<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
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He snatches light birds<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
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And put them in cages that open by numbers…<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
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Makes sweet waves of music<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
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And distribute it to the blind…<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
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Ascends the high levels of the soul<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
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In his possession the number lights…<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
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On your next birthday<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
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There will be many servants<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
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They do not speak, but they prove<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
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They don’t sit, they shine…<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
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(Pythagoras) will gift you his mathematical triangle<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
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To be a proof of the world splendor…<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
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A grave digger is waiting for you<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
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He deepens the hole with his rusty teeth<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
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While gout whistles in his joints<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
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And showers him with very precious gifts…<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
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I remember that this vast darkness has an isolated home in oblivion<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
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He has a freed wife who was swallowed by a boa snake<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
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In the sleeping rainforests…<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
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A child being eaten by mourning wolves in the estuaries…<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
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He has a friend worthy of the world enormity…<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
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I remember that he had an empty face in the prime of the depression<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
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Carried by two shoulders on both ends of the contrary…<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
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Waiting for you<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
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A walking cat grows up in oblivion<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
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Isn’t seen much<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
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Shared you the electric elevator in the military hospital.<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
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His amazing eyes are scrutinized<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
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In the angel of death face features sitting next to you<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
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With the pomp of a sad Assyrian king<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
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Blaring the Lord’s whistle<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
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To carry you to your elegant home<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
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Out of the world\u2019s brawl…<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
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Glory and immortality to you.<\/div>\n<\/div>\n