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***** نَفْثُ مَنْ فِي السَّماءِ ننْتظِرُ ؟ \ شعر \ عبد اللطيف رعري \ فرنسا ***** المرجفون في الدولة المصرية بين الوطنية والعمالة \ حسن زايد ***** الوجدان العربي و تخمة الهتافات عند الجماهير \ مصطفى العمري ***** مالك بن نبي الأديب \ معمر حبار \ الجزائر ***** كيف أنقذ الزعيم عبد الكريم قاسم أخي حامد من الإعدام \ الدكتور أياد الجصاني ***** بالباب منْ؟\ شعر \ سامح لطف الله ***** أَنَا بَــحْــرُكِ الْــغَـــرِيـــق! / شعر \ آمال عوّاد رضوان ***** ثورة 25 يناير، قطعة مشاهدة ! \ د. عادل محمد عايش الأسطل ***** المرأة مشكلة عالمية \ حسين ابو سعود ***** عازف القيثار المبتور \ قصة قصيرة \ إبراهيم أمين مؤمن ***** السماء الزرقاء \ حسام عبد الحسين ***** العراقيون: بين التفاعل والفعل.. ورد الفعل \ المهندس زيد شحاثة ***** يحدث الآن \ حميد عقبي \ اليمن ***** هل يدعو هذا الإعلان التجاري للانتحار حقاً؟ ***** ملهمات الشاعر محمد علوش \ سمير الأسعد * ***** لا تثر غبار الذكريات \ أمينة نور- المغرب ***** "شبكة الحياة" لوحة رسم تشارك بمعرض دار الكتب والوثائق *****



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.

التعليقات  1

 
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