a cura di: Prepared Angela Kosta Executive Director of MIRIADE Magazine, Academic, journalist, writer, poet, essayist, literary critic, editor, translator, promoter
2025-01-10 15:24:38
YOUSSEF HUSSEIN
SONS OF THE COUNTRY
They come from the night lilies and lamps and the smell of rain
They arrive from there with coffins and blood and guns
They sleep on the condolences of the night
They make brides from the spray of their females
They sweeten conversations with laughter at what happened
They fear the cellars of silence
They say the rituals of their desire from nothing
They are the naked ones returning from the other door to the dew and the sun and saffron
They get covered with old nostalgia and wine and drums and the women of their calamities in the big cities and the villages adjacent to their setbacks
They are the naked ones who smear the butter of the morning with the dough of the tan
They slaughter the joy of the holiday on the kiss of their worries
They read walking in the footsteps of the river and the springs and the jasmine
They gasp with mint and elegies
They write down the lust of the birds on the branches leaning towards winter
They carve The words of the verses of their dances
They are the naked ones who dig trenches for regret and old tears and the sockets of the broken on the road to war
The naked ones who slip away from vows
The silent ones on the horror of tragedies
They curse luck and the country
They sing their wailing on the incense burners of night and domes and confusion and stillness
The naked ones who pass by us and learn from us the good of sorrow and deeds
The sons of the country are ashamed of their ages
And they complain to God about wars and the appearance of their shells.