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***** أنهار من يباس \ شعر \ أحمد أبو ماجن ***** يا رجالَ الطين \ شعر \ د. أحمد شبيب الحاج دياب ***** مغزى رسالة أردوغان لمصر \ فادى عيد* ***** أيــن الـمـثقـف المغـربي مـن التــأجــيل ؟\ نـجيـب طــلال ***** سلام عليك يا قدس \ شعر \ حسن العاصي \ الدانمرك ***** تخفيضات نهاية الموسم \ رسل جمال ***** ماذا بعد مقتل الرئيس السابق عبد الله صالح؟ \ قوارف رشيد \ الجزائر ***** وإنْ وهبَ ترامب مالا يملك فالقدس عربية \ توفيق الدبوس ***** التهويد باطل.. والقدس عربية \ نايف عبوش ***** أمُّ دَفْرٍ \ شعر \ ابتسام الحاج زكي ***** عادتْ خيولهم تزهو حوافرها \ كريم عبدالله ***** إنتصار الدم على الإرهاب يوحد العراق \ عبدالحمزة سلمان ***** ما هي الكلمة العادية التي ترى الملكة «إليزابيث» أنها غير لائقة؟ ***** مصر تنزف ..ما الحل ؟ \ قوارف رشيد \ الجزائر ***** الإحتفال بالمولد النبوي دون خرافات \ معمر حبار \ الجزائر ***** إكراما للبارازاني أمريكا تحتل كركوك!\ عزيز الحافظ ***** عفواً يا سيد شفيق \ حسن زايد \ مصر *****

Staircase of Colorful Wishes//

By: Kareem Abdullah

Translated from Arabic by: Fareed Ghanem


Take me mightily towards the remote light, so that I erase the disappointments at the doors of the absolute, continue singing around springs of wisdom about how it emerges into the soul, I pierce its virginity, bathe in its splendors, pass across cities' darkness, shake off from my wings the dust and lead which decorated my photos since the morning had been cremated by a thousand and one stabs. Take me there, to listen to the stars' hymns, dance at wisdom orchards, get addicted to inflaming words, scattering them at roads leading to eternality calendars, roads left by anonymous shrines penetrated by destruction. Many a time, she warned me and scattered my leaves at your thresholds, did not know how dianthus grow up at paths leading to you, and how ascension is better than a thousand old tales. Take me to coil the wounds, at the turquoise archipelagos, polish by its blueness the hazes practicing absence. Let me give up faint colors and paint the face of the day as brilliant as gold, exiting perpetual peace. When my feet tremble on the street of extremism, panic of falling down inspires me with agility, which honors virtue dictionaries concealed by your ceremonies. How many times I lied stretched on alleys of illusion, practicing the frivolity of wandering at check-points and declaring war at the remnants of the false truth! How many times I practiced tyranny under the falls of your lights entities, wading in the lake of impossible, without being experienced in navigation, and zeroing the losses! Many a time, destinies delayed my delusions for ascending without the softness of the perfume of your dates, while I was forging signatures in order to enter the kingdom of being. Here is the sun, reopening its windows, while you hold my hand and free me of travel difficulty, fill my inkwell by sprinkles of its glowing rivers. So, I will denude my old booklets and hang them on the infinite light's cheers, at the borders of your coasts, liberating it from old heritage, re-reading it so that no doubt overcomes me, and I'll recite my prayers while desires' candles adorn themselves and recite whatever is available in a pregnant song, near a road-map drawn by you.

إضافة تعليق

مود الحماية


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