Why?
Why was:
the snow whiter,
the grass greener,
the sun brighter,
and the moon prettier?
Why was
the friend friendlier,
the thoughts clearer,
the soul more refined,
and the human, more human?
Why has
the present become boring,
the future more frightening,
the world polluted,
and the dollar worshipped?
And why
did singing turn into shrieking,
music into noise,
art into pornography,
worship a business
and love dissipation?
Why? a thousand times why?
**
Mirror of time
It is not my mirror.
My mirror used to show
images of my lively,
youth…
Now I see in it
lines and wrinkles.
Its reflection is an oppressive
judgement …
It will keep torturing me,
because it is not my mirror.
It is the mirror of time.
**
The best letters
In the late hours of the night,
in my small office
overlooking the garden,
I had a strange feeling.
In the depth of my memory,
I saw pictures and scenes, accompanied
with gentle feelings,
and suddenly,
the pen jumped in my hand,
and I wrote,
the best letters, ever…
**
We’re all strangers
We’re all strangers!
Free men amongst slaves,
slaves amongst free men,
the educators amongst the illiterate,
the illiterate amongst scholars,
the well- mannered amongst the vulgar,
and the vulgar amongst the courteous.
They’re all strangers
A sister in her brother’s house,
the girl in her father’s home,
the mother in her son’s home,
and the wife away from her
husband’s arms.
They’re all strangers
He who speaks a language
other than his,
he who is separated from his home,
and he who eats other’s bread.
They’re also strangers
He who doesn’t hear the
beating of his heart,
he who isn’t in harmony with himself,
he who conforms to the principles of a
corrupt society,
he who refuses to comply with the
monopolies,
and he who rejects sectarianism
in a sectarian society.
They’re the most wretched strangers
**
Would it matter?
Would it matter?
if the sun rises and shines on the planet
with its warm and golden rays,
then disappears behind
darkened clouds?
It does not matter,
because the sun will shine again.
Would it matter
if I talk to myself?
It does not matter,
As long as I am not expected
to explain.
Would it matter,
if my heart was pounding in protest?
It would not matter;
If I can take it in my arms
And cuddled it passionately
to calm it down
since I know what it wants.
**
Who am I?
I am the daughter
of the unhappy South,
I am the daughter of Lebanon
that burn it children
in a sectarian fire.
I am the daughter of a father,
who educated his male children,
and gave them his inheritance.
I am the daughter of a mother,
who did not have the time
to embrace or kiss me,
since I was just one of her twelve
children.
I am one who managed to survive
without parents,
without a country,
who survived,
in a voluntary exile.
I am the one whose circumstances
made her lose faith in the
justice of this world…
I am one who prayed and
fasted in her childhood,
but did not throughout her adulthood.
I am the one who considered herself
not the recipient of heaven’s clemency,
but asks if perhaps God can protect me
from the reign of chaos.
**
Turn the page
the snow whiter,
the grass greener,
the sun brighter,
and the moon prettier?
Why was
the friend friendlier,
the thoughts clearer,
the soul more refined,
and the human, more human?
Why has
the present become boring,
the future more frightening,
the world polluted,
and the dollar worshipped?
And why
did singing turn into shrieking,
music into noise,
art into pornography,
worship a business
and love dissipation?
Why? a thousand times why?
**
Mirror of time
It is not my mirror.
My mirror used to show
images of my lively,
youth…
Now I see in it
lines and wrinkles.
Its reflection is an oppressive
judgement …
It will keep torturing me,
because it is not my mirror.
It is the mirror of time.
**
The best letters
In the late hours of the night,
in my small office
overlooking the garden,
I had a strange feeling.
In the depth of my memory,
I saw pictures and scenes, accompanied
with gentle feelings,
and suddenly,
the pen jumped in my hand,
and I wrote,
the best letters, ever…
**
We’re all strangers
We’re all strangers!
Free men amongst slaves,
slaves amongst free men,
the educators amongst the illiterate,
the illiterate amongst scholars,
the well- mannered amongst the vulgar,
and the vulgar amongst the courteous.
They’re all strangers
A sister in her brother’s house,
the girl in her father’s home,
the mother in her son’s home,
and the wife away from her
husband’s arms.
They’re all strangers
He who speaks a language
other than his,
he who is separated from his home,
and he who eats other’s bread.
They’re also strangers
He who doesn’t hear the
beating of his heart,
he who isn’t in harmony with himself,
he who conforms to the principles of a
corrupt society,
he who refuses to comply with the
monopolies,
and he who rejects sectarianism
in a sectarian society.
They’re the most wretched strangers
**
Would it matter?
Would it matter?
if the sun rises and shines on the planet
with its warm and golden rays,
then disappears behind
darkened clouds?
It does not matter,
because the sun will shine again.
Would it matter
if I talk to myself?
It does not matter,
As long as I am not expected
to explain.
Would it matter,
if my heart was pounding in protest?
It would not matter;
If I can take it in my arms
And cuddled it passionately
to calm it down
since I know what it wants.
**
Who am I?
I am the daughter
of the unhappy South,
I am the daughter of Lebanon
that burn it children
in a sectarian fire.
I am the daughter of a father,
who educated his male children,
and gave them his inheritance.
I am the daughter of a mother,
who did not have the time
to embrace or kiss me,
since I was just one of her twelve
children.
I am one who managed to survive
without parents,
without a country,
who survived,
in a voluntary exile.
I am the one whose circumstances
made her lose faith in the
justice of this world…
I am one who prayed and
fasted in her childhood,
but did not throughout her adulthood.
I am the one who considered herself
not the recipient of heaven’s clemency,
but asks if perhaps God can protect me
from the reign of chaos.
**
Turn the page
