When the robin flies high,
it caresses the sky of creativity
and rests on the white pine tree,
singing its eternal song
in all the languages of the world,
where everyday is a diverse festival
the melody blends
with the voices of artists and poets.
The robin’s colorful feathers scatter
and mix with the ethnic hues
of history and humanity.
The brushes of artists
and the poems of the angelic snow
rest on the earth’s warmth.
One man after another finds his soul
illuminating with philanthropy, creativity, and prosperity
when the robin rests on each window at dawn
giving him the freedom from its wings–
the keys of peace
and new hope
to embrace humanity
away from war
Those great piles of blood that stopped compiling few minutes ago….
Imagination continues to imagine the unimaginable.
The children return from elementary schools
And find no homes to live in, no books to read, no food to eat;
Their fathers were wrapped with flags
Their mothers were exiled with anguish and tears
The happiness leaves the streets
The ministers and Sheikhs were praying in Bethlehem
For the peaceful peace of the Holly Land
Angels meet on the cradle of Messiah
And supplicate for the revival of the broken wings of peace.
No cemeteries to go to
God furnishes the souls with blessed eternity
Over the bodies which were ruptured
Over the green which was still pulsating with eternal life
The bloody Dead Sea revives and witnesses the historical scene.
Its waves hide the tears, the full moon eclipsed that night
And the Angles in black veils fly over Al-Aqsa mosque and Al-Qiama church
No one had seen them fly, or why they covered their snowy bodies
With black veils over the streets which were kneaded with blood!!
as stars exhale the glitter from the water of its spirit
and pour it in two hearts..
And the fingers of roses pour their light
To soliloquize their adore to a spike.
Venus dwells in the sky of a tender affection
in the latitude of a kiss and two shiversYou and I are two visions,
blossoming dew and radiating in two exiles.
Is it because we are two birds flying in the horizon of our echoes
and folding our springy wings
like anthems of lure?
Or because we are two fruits
Flourishing in the moaning of the earth
and searching for our peaceful existence?
Is the nature in our blood
Or we are the nature?!
We are the children of fertility.
We are the flowers of life.
If we sewed its strings fancy,
our progeny chants jewels and music,
and we flourish auroras in the breath of light.