الخميس، 12 أبريل 2012


 My Jalore
by
Hind Raid (2 nd year)
and
Dr Hana Al-Bayyati

O son!
Your father
Is my galore.
He threw my lyre
Into a big fire.
You witness
 Our war,
 Our fear;
You witness
My sadness,
And daily death
No air, no breath
On this  earth
Your dad
Has poisoned
my blood
I am done.
You advice me to run away
From this tearful day.
To run away with shame?
To be called by a bad name?
Virtuous Freedom
   Is my aim.
Sitting in my room                                       
 watching the sunshine                                  
Through the window
Of the tower,
Waiting for a new prince                              
To clime up my  Hair,                              
To save me from the witch, unfair               
I look here and there.                               
I find myself chained
To a deer
 And a bear
O my new prince! 
where are you, where? 
No body  is there.
No body is there.

  






Niamat Allah Nasir
 And
 Dr  Hana Al-Bayyati

I knew nothing
About my feeling
Until  he was leaving
Everything was calling
Him back to my sensation:
My tears, my pen
My heart,  my passion
All attracted him to my meeting,
Watching me praying,
God  sent  me a  blessing. 
    He sent him back to me , while waiting
Now the sky  stops  raining
The birds are singing,
The flowers are blooming
The doors are all opening
 To  celebrate his coming .





 Dr Hana Al-Bayyati

Not to fall in love again
Is my decision
I would rather stay alone
In this melancholic zone
You  have gone
Very soon
Leaving me  alone
I have learnt a lesson
Not to be done
By a  nasty phone
The wings of the dove
Are now broken
 By an unrequited   love
I will find someone
Who will turn my loss
                                                                  Into gain

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