Some nectar is me and the orange is you
Muhammad Al-Makki Ibrahim
Oh my God, mulatto
O bar furnished with sand
O bleary-eyed one
With a twisted verse of a song
Oh, a watered-colored rose
Some nectar i
And the orange is you
Oh, full of legs and mulatto children
Oh some nigger
And some Arabic
And some of my sayings before God
* * *
From a subscription, he bought the scent of cloves
From the breath of an evening
Or the coasts of the island's waist
Or the island's waist
From the ocean wave
And morning hugs
From a subscription purchased
The wound has a sheath
And sorrows have an elegy
From a subscription purchased
From me and from you
Crying dates
And generations of slavery
Who bought me a subscription, mulatto?
Am I selling my face?
And my words before God
* * *
Let them ask about you. What palm trees have you seen?
Ramla Karmalek
Washed and watered
And let them ask about you, the embrace of the Gulf, when
With some of your goodness
The dream lured a nymph
And let them ask about you, the groups of invaders saw
We gore like you gore, and the days are guided
* * *
To ask
Every moon will be narrated
Something of poetry
About your breasts at dawn
And let them ask
He says: The sword and the travels.
Oh orange
They said they drink you
So that the diaphragm no longer contains nectar
And they have a fever
Until there is a market for all kinds of immoralities
And now Raja
The pitcher and the jug remained
It kept giving
And the cups are turned.
* * *
He shook the stem of the spring at you
And he took a shower
From the sadness of your past
In vision and determination
He shook at you
The castle towers are rising
Bees roamed the pastures
And I give you sweet peace
The east is red
And blessings be upon you, Izar
She runs and they walk back
Until we continue the journey
* * *
The ball floated in the eyes of your lovers
They came back to you with dreams
What is the matter with the arrajans?
Gulf pilots do not have a mine
The spring has fallen asleep and all creatures are asleep
Except me
And the smell
And the spears of your guards stand up
* * *
When did you get over them?
I come leaping to you
My hair is at night
And my embrace is full of roses
Leave the door open
And my luck in bed is warm
And may the burdens of scent be fulfilled for me
And the singing of the spring and the trees
Let's have a long talk
With your breasts at dawn.
Oh orange
Meeting hours are short
* * *
Look at me a little, the morning is coming
The sea is teak
And palm trees are woven
The palace pool in Yellowover was crowded
And the bees filled the cups of flowers before
And now I am as beautiful as I can be
And I have been younger since my youth
And covered with a new light
Look at me, the islands are about to come
-I'm going-
And with the new tide I will come
Did you know me?
In the bed and the waves
In the strong storm
And in my death and resurrection I will come
So say, “You know me.”
I have engraved my pieces and composition
In the rock and sand between the sparklers
And I have become a reminder in the tablet of passion
And now
Not satisfied with the goodness of your flesh
Or Rayyan who poured your breasts spent
So promise me that you will invite me
To your bed another night
And you make it look long on me with your hair
In my ulna
Your color is in my color and composition
I was lost in you, so embrace me
To the graves of tropical flowers
To tears
And generations of slavery
Take my remains
And wrap me in your arm
How sweet is your scent?
How strong you are
Naked, Negro, and some Arab
And some of my sayings before God
Wherever you dig in this dirt
The remains emerge from an ancient death
Muhammad Al-Makki Ibrahim
There are also treasures underground in this earth
There are also mines
There are also graves:
There are tropical villages
He descended upon her from heaven
A barrel packed with shrapnel and nails,
There were soldiers surrounded
They raised the white flag
Thinking that they are surrendering to the enemy
Not for his knives.
After the first rain
New herbs will grow:
The ears of oil and millet will emerge with the ears of revenge
And Bulbulah’s hoarse singing
From its hiding places, ghosts will emerge
With their scarred heads and clotted blood
Which will flow forever
So be careful, boys!
Oh, oil workers
Oh, clean-shaven peasant women with cheerful turbans
And you too, you ignorant politicians
In this African soil, it is easy to bulldoze
And under this tropical rain
Nothing stays buried forever.
A salamander on the verge of absence
D. Muhammad Abdel-Hay
(1)
If he was lost in his seafaring, then he would be lost
-Through the time of the sea- and salt will be carved from his crystalline bones
Gardens made of seashells that light up on summer moonlit nights
On the sands of the coast of absence
(2)
She is on her loom, waiting
Sometimes you go forward in time, and sometimes you go backwards in time
For a moment they shine outside of time where they meet
For a while away, for a while back
(3)
They were singing on the rock, the strands spread out
Phosphorus flowers on the bay
The green body is watered with the color of the sea
And saturated with the honey of poisonous lilies
(4)
In the uplifting dream at night, water mirrors
Strange inscriptions and names
He could see the bees swarming busy on the trunks of old trees; And the roots
It sucks the flesh of the earth in its blind, clay lust
(5)
When he shouted, I became the receding wave
He saw birds in the summer to their scattered nests
get used to; And the blood that foams, in its purest presence, on the dirt
And the salamander, engulfed in fire, stood on the rock on the edge of absence
(6)
And on her loom, waiting
In silence, after the end of the night and before the beginning of the day
Eavesdrop on the conversation
Between sea and land, the sound of the ancient language is heard
The language is older than arguments of victory and defeat
The oldest and purest of migration and return to ports of sorrow and waiting
In the still nothingness, between the language of the sea and the form of fire
Salah Ahmed Ibrahim
Have you ever tasted the shame of color?
And I saw people pointing at you and calling out:
Black slave?
Have you ever watched the boys play eagerly?
And tenderness
When you are about to shout with a heart full of compassion
How creative is the foolishness of the boys!
They saw you and ran after you in wedding:
Black slave
Black slave
Black slave..?
Have you ever tasted hunger while abroad?
And sleeping on wet ground
Solid bare earth
The bend of the forearm cushions itself in the cursed cold
Anya Tawaf arouses suspicions in the eyes
You hear the whispering of the people, you see the winking of the women
And in Lebanon
Your wound festers in the stabbed heart
It bears the color of a fang's cuticle like a curse
Human feelings squirm around you
She shouts with a choked heart:
And the humiliation of black people in exile
In a country where people are measured by colours!
* * *
One week and two weeks have passed
And I'm hungry
Hungry and no heart cares
Thirsty and fed up with drink
The Nile is far away
The Nile is far away
People have everything new
And I'm alone...
Broken-hearted on the day of Eid
Decorative lights and noise mock me
My troubled thoughts mock me
And I'm alone..
In the isolation of an Indian outcast
I represent my mother, my brothers,
The next half of the night is the entire Qur’an
In my country
In the remote country of my friends
Al-Asam is behind the sea and behind the desert
In my country
Where a stranger is cherished, the guest is loved
It is reserved for the last dose of water in the height of summer
Have dinner for the children
Wetting humans and humans when the situation gets rough [1]
And I began to sing in sorrow, my pain was evident
Oh bird of migration...oh bird
Oh bird, your destination is my country
Take me by God, I am on guard
I clipped my wings
I was in a corner, laying down my luggage
The shadow receded and he went to the other shadow
* * *
But the bird left me
He did not understand what I was rich about.
Exile and kingdom
Al-Nour Othman Abkar
I never left my father's house
To wander into a cave in the desert
I cover what the palms of the wind have woven in the pattern of silence
And feed from the Lord's table
And I will listen carefully and spread the pole of sight that the path may shine
A foal is churning, and in the blink of an eye, all the atmosphere of the world is enveloped in me
And the desired hereafter and the vision
When I return, I will reveal to you the secret of the meeting
I swore by the gray hair on my father’s head and by my mother’s sanctity:
An angel of the Lord came to me at night
He split his chest and drowned his fingertips in a sea of blood
Then take away fear and the smell of curse, and untie my tongue
He baptized me
And relieved my forehead, set me free
Who conquers need and time
I narrated to you what you are too clever to understand and the clever tricks you are too tired of
Since I am close to the remains of eternity
In the embrace of eternal twilight I was made to drink wine from silver cups
From the young hands of young children
My regrets are the messengers of the East and the West
The tune didn't get hoarse and we didn't get tired
Because there are rivers in wine
And the beautiful houris go and come without a garment
The shadow tempted me, so I was excluded
***
You sanctified Rebekah: my father’s house
My cradle, my exile and my kingdom
In it I suffered the unknowns of the forbidden, and I came to baptize you.
Muhammad Othman Kajari
This poem is related to the circumstance of place, time, and its title
First position
I didn't know that I was
When I enter the homelands, you meet me
With an ignorant dark threat
In its law, I am the first suspect on earth
And in all aspects of the seasons
I must hear something hurtful before entering
So listen to me, I really know what I'm saying
I do not know how to wipe on felt or gourd
Drums
Second position
Here they are now holding a prayer of thanksgiving in the shade
Guarding
Then they add legends to the one sitting on the throne
Holiness
And the country of the green song deteriorates in the bottom
Unhappiness
The face of this one who was exhausted by hunger and bankruptcy
Politics??
The history controversy intensifies
The standards of discourse are extended
My children, the wind dreams of remaining a nucleus
Alienation
And the soldiers are still young
They were also the tool of the coup
Third position
This is the whisper of the hour that ravages the seconds
And the minutes
When the colors of fires pour out from the forest
Behind the firelight thousands of truths are exposed
Nero's face changed
Through the tragic scene, it becomes more horrific
The tongue of fire extends to greenery in its splendor
Al-Mada'in
People fled naked and barefoot
In the swamp of death there are no signs of ships
What remained was burned by fire in the midst of ambushes
Sixth position
O Abu Al-Tayeb, indeed:
He who is humiliated will be easily humiliated
There is no pain for a dead wound
If injustice breathes a throne, then justice must have peace in time