تولد في الالوان

أَلْخَاتِمَةُ 

مَاذَا يَبْقَى لِلْإِنْسَانِ...

كَوْمَةُ حِجارَةٍ وَشَاهِدَةٌ تَدُلُّ عَلَى ﭐلْمَكَانِ

هُوَ ﭐلتُّرَابُ يُغْلِقُ ﭐلنَّافِذَةَ،

وَتَعوُدُ إِلَى ﭐلتُّرَابِ...

تِلْكَ ﭐلنَّوَافِذُ ﭐلسَّوْداءُ مُشَرَّعَةٌ

مُنْذُ بَدْءِ ﭐلْخَلِيقَةِ فِي "سِفْرِ ﭐلْجَامِعَةِ"

بَاطِلُ ﭐلْأبَاطِيلِ وَقَبْضُ ﭐلرّيحِ

"وَكُلُّ مَا عُمِلَ تَحْتَ ﭐلسَّمَوَاتِ هُوَ عَنَاءٌ رَدِيءٌ"

مِنْ أَيْنَ يَأْتِيكَ ﭐلْفَرَحُ؟

كُنْتُ أَخَرُجُ مِنْ بَيْنِ ﭐلْأنْقَاضِ

أُغَنِّي لِعَاشِقَةٍ فَتَحَتْ فِي هذَا ﭐلزَّمَنِ

ﭐلْمُظْلِمِ...

مَا بَيْنَ ﭐلنَّهْدَيْنِ لِلْحُلْمِ ﭐلْوَرْدِيِّ

نَافِذَةً لِلْحَيَاةِ...

كَانَتْ صَلَاةُ ﭐلْقُدَّاسِ ﭐلْجَنَائِزِيِّ ﭐلْأَخِيرَةُ

فِي كَنِيسَةِ" ﭐلْقِيَامَة" فِي ﭐلْقُدْسِ

تُعْلِنُ أَنَّ ﭐبْنَ ﭐلرَّبِّ قَامَ مِنَ ﭐلْقَبْرِ

إِلَى ﭐلسَّمَاءِ...

فَمَنْ رَآهُ لَحْظَةَ ﭐلصُّعُودِ،

لَا يَمُوتُ.

خَرَجْتُ فِي ﭐلْيَوْمِ ﭐلثَّالِثِ مِنْ آذَارَ،

سُنْبُلَةُ قَمْحٍ لِلْجَائِعِينَ فَوْقَ أرْصِفَةِ

مُدُنِ ﭐلْعَالَمِ...

وَكُنْتُ فِي أَعْيَادِ عِشْتَارَ...

أَجْمَعُ نَارَ ﭐلْحَنِينِ فِي مَوْقِدَةِ ﭐلْقَصِيدَةِ

ﭐلْحالِمَةِ...

وَﭐحْتَرَقْتُ فِي قَصَائِدِ ﭐلْغَزَل

حِينَ كَانَتْ...

غَزَالَةٌ شَارِدَةً فِي بَرَارِي قَلْبِي

تَأْكُلُ عُشْبَ صَدْرِي...

وَتَشْرَبُ عِنْدَ ﭐلظَّمَإِ مِنْ دَمِي

وَتَدْخُلُ مَعِي مِحْرَابَ ﭐلصَّلَاةِ

 فِي مَعَابِدِ ﭐلْعَاشِقِينَ

كَانَتْ صَلَوَاتِي لِعَالَمٍ آتٍ...

وَضَعُوا فِي فَمِي حَجَرًا،

وسِكِّينًا فِي ﭐلْقلْبِ...

وَقَالُوا: هذَا زَمَنُ ﭐلْإِرْهَابِ وَﭐلْقَتْلِ

هذَا ﭐلْعَالَمُ السُّفْلِىُّ...

وَﭐغْتَالُوا ﭐلْقَصِيدَةَ ﭐلْعَاشِقَة.

صُلِبْتُ أَمَامَ عَيْنَيْنِ فَاتِنَتَيْنِ

 وَجُنِنْتُ بِرَوْعَةِ ﭐلسَّحَرِ

– أَلْمَوْتُ –

وَقُلْتُ: مَجْنُونٌ يُغَنِّي عَلَى أَعْتَابِ

 أَمِيرَةِ ﭐلْعَالِمِ

– أَلْحَيَاةُ–

أَعُودُ مِنَ ﭐلتُّرَابِ إِلَى ﭐلتُّرَابِ أَمَامَ

 سَيِّدَةِ ﭐلْعَالَمِ

–أَلْأرْضُ – 

(القصيدة من ديوان "تولد في الألوان" الطبعة الثالثة الصادرة في القاهرة – دار الأدهم للنشر والتوزبع- القاهرة-مصر)

The end

What remains for Man...

A pile of stones and a headstone indicating

the place

It is the dirt closing the window,

And return to the dust...

These black windows have been partly opened

Since the beginning of the creation in the

"Ecclesiastes"

The vanity of the falsehoods and catching the wind

"And all that is done under the heavens is a bad effort".

So where does joy come from?

I was getting out of the ruins

Singing for a lover who opened in this

dark time...

What is between the two breasts for the rosy dream

a window for life...

It was the prayer of the last Mass funeral

In the Church of “Resurrection” in Jerusalem

declaring that the Son of the Lord has risen

from the tomb to the sky

So, who saw Him the moment of the rise

He never dies.

On the third day of March,

a wheat spike has come out for the hungry

on the sidewalks of the world cities...

And I was in the feast of Ishtar...

Collecting the fire of nostalgia in the

fireplace of the dreaming poem...

And I burned in the poems of dalliance

And I loved the poems of flirtation...

When she was...

A strayed Gazelle is in the prairie of my heart

Eating the grass of my chest...

And drinking when she is thirsty from my blood

And enter with me into the mihrab of the prayer in the temples of the lovers...

my prayers were for a coming world... And

They put a stone in my mouth,

and a knife in the heart...

They said: This is the time of terror and murder

This is the underworld...

And they killed the loving poem...

It was crucified in front of my eyes charming

and went mad with the splendor of magic

-Death-

I said: A crazy is singing on the threshold of the

princess of the world

-Life-

I return from the dust to the dust in

front of the lady of the world

-The Earth-

(الترجمة إلى اللغة الإنجليزية - الشاعر المترجم حسن حجازي حسن – مصر)