MOHAMMAD SKATI Poems

There was only one pretty passionflower Near the rocky cliff.
I saw just one of these pretty flowers By itself.
It was the prettiest flower I ever saw by itself.
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When summertime comes All the happy farmers come With their sharp scythes
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All the dry spikes of grain, In the pretty summertime, Get themselves ready and Obedient to the farmers' scythes.
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Everything scares even
One's pretty shadow,
Everyone scares even
One's pretty words,
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Born to suffer!
Born to pain!
I left for good,
I returned for good,
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Everywhere they learn you And teach you this great Man's words William Shakespeare, Everywhere and anywhere they tell you To be with us or to be against us, What happened to our world?
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Nowadays we don't know if We're human beings or flies, We're merely in between knowing Or not knowing what we're are now, We're human beings in our IDS only, but When it comes to treatment we're naught,
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I fade away like a fading flower, My sun is not rising as it used to be, My words are weak and are incapable of doing anything, My fall is full with fallen leaves, My winter is very cold, My spring is not blooming as it used to be,
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With my naked eyes, In front of the UN offices Here and there, I see the horrible sufferings And the painful pains of the pretty Refugees asking for some help To themselves and to their pretty families,
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You can assassinate my body, but You can not assassinate my pretty pen, You can assassinate my pretty words, but You can not assassinate my pretty thoughts, You can assassinate my steps, but You can not prevent me from walking, You can turn my life into a real hell,
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