Poem from George Khabbaz about Lebanon Listen to me my martyr friend who has departed us early, We are repeating the same mistake; what has happened shall happen again 30 years of disgrace apparently do not suffice, Grudge has returned and they play with us again And the youth still act and we still hear the sounds of the grenades, And all is back to scolding all and the saint has been mixed with the sinner The language of hurting returns, and the country cannot see its own wounds They said the winds will take us. Those who died are not enough We have already drunk from the glass and cried over the graves We do not yearn for the border lines not for the checkpoints Tell those who talk on the podiums to stop fooling the people I wish you could visit them some day; they do not listen to me You wake them up from a sleep in a country like the heaven Tell them, “People wake up; go back to those days” It is time them we wake up in a country fit for peace; none of us is concerned Or afraid about the future of his country Each has opened a store to trade with sects. People, all religions call that we love We hate the human and we use religion as an excuse Our hearts have become of steel and we did not learn anything from the past I am afraid, my martyr friend, that you might have died for nothing Your daughter has become a young lady, over 20 years of age She is asking, “Where is my father? Whom did he die a martyr for?” I told her, “Your father paid the price of freedom. The cause was his concern and he died for the cause.” She asked, “Which freedom? Yesterday in the ceremony, I graduated And my father wasn’t there.” Tell them to wake up again and not to go back to the past Why are the laughter of children under threat of kidnap? My country, the most beautiful of flowers which each wants to pick.
Posted on: Wed, 02 Apr 2014 18:43:54 +0000