The sea and exile
To the martyr Abdel Majeed Shakak
D. My generation Abdul Rahman
And excuse me...
If the cup is tired,
And the cry is banished in the chains of glory,
Who cares about me?
acres of wine,
This is my arterial sea that bleeds in exile.
Crazy ghosts
And the wrinkles of the grim dirt... in a chain of years
And forehead curves!
The mother's supplication wakes up behind the door of dawn
You invite me
He turned his click for a humiliating living
And forgive me
If we dance in the autumn of life,
In the wilting rose!
We sipped beer from our palms
Like cytoplasmic magic
And I see you in the desert
Like haunting ghosts
And the night became clear in my eyes,
In two prisons
A desert filled with sand... in the beautiful sea
The evening choir became impossible,
Squeaky moans!
O virgins of green ecstasy...
Warmth poured from the dead man's face
And he came to me
Like the sail of the sea mesmerized by songs
Where is the helpless person in the prison of time?
Where are we who are chained in the well of humiliation?
Arise...and embrace the oasis of joy,
Bless its spring for our sake
And it appears like a star in the deserts of our night
- The disease of sadness has killed you, Ghafara!
They will not lead the sea into exile,
And the bottom of the wave is within us
Love will never dry up in the heart,
We warmed up
And the exile is damned stupid
We lit its dial... during the day
The Temple of Age is venerable
How do you turn it into a suicide?
O tents... I come to the beat of the songs
Your dawn hair is full of meanings
So open the doors, Khartoum
Orphans and virgins ululate
“And remember us as we remember you.”
We are prisoners of poetry
“And the doubbits that Qana... are drunk.”
My friends
Cuba is protected from the desert wind
We are without love,
Without determination,
Confused ghosts
We are a source of goodness from you, and a wedding in blood
So excuse me, my friends
If I raise the cup this evening
Hundreds of thirsty eagles... their flapping wings flew
Left in the darkness of exile...
And the prison of pride
Taif and the Night Flower
To the human martyr Hassan Al-Taher Zarrouk
D. My generation Abdul Rahman
It bloomed with balm and singing
"Night Flower"
For the poor... getting high
My red carnation... sir
And a morgue where the veins freeze... blood
The minaret of the mosque is ashamed
Stumble you struggle with it
In its darkness, its barking alleys
Dogs...bite birds,
She flew without wings
And you plead with her,
I come from Omdurman
And filling my shirt...with the scent of shrines
Don't bother me
A Messiah... His testimony is weapons!
She attacked you, so let me chase her
And its fangs are in the blood of the massacre
The night flower sprouted a cup of bitter melon
And she was chirping from your palms,
Clusters...like ears of corn
And a berry, and a shadow on a stream
A piece of bread with water and salt
With palm trees and family
He heals the wounded
And a lemon bears fruit... it provokes tears
I loved holding saws.
A slogan with the night,
Disappearing from prying eyes
And your nose stings with cold and snow,
And a dirty stretcher!
Summer is sacrificed, O Rebekah, life is wasted.
And he is spreading
Fragrant lilies
The flower of the night is ashamed and does not shine
And you disappear beyond the horizon
- Anis
You argue with me with mercy and modesty
You look at me suddenly
And all the seasons, and my cranky life
Redemption for the one who departed
He prayed praise for its mourning countries
He lit a fire in us yesterday morning