MOHAMMAD SKATI Poems

هناك حنش قاتل مازال موجودا خلف الحجارة و الصخور مختبئا و مذعورا كفأر اختبأ من قط يطارده فلا يعرف اين يختبىء و لا يعرف اين يذهب و القوم في الخارج
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هناك حنش قاتل مازال موجودا خلف الحجارة و الصخور مختبئا و مذعورا كفأر اختبأ من قط يطارده فلا يعرف اين يختبىء و لا يعرف اين يذهب
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There is no pretty alternative to my pain, but My pain itself, There is no pretty alternative to my anger, but My anger itself,
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Like the parallel lines, Like the opposites, Like the ice and water, Like the sky and and the earth, Like the parallel railways, Like the top and the bottom, Like the dark and light, Like the pretty love and the ugly hatred, Like the sweet water and
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Time talks. It is precious and important In everything and for everyone Anytime and anywhere,
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When you don't have your pretty freedom One hundred percent, so what do yo do?
I fight for my freedom with all might and My power to have it and to enjoy it greatly.
My pretty freedom is not bargained, sold, Bought, negotiated, minimized by anyway,
My freedom is taken and never given to anyone And henceforth it paves the way
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The pretty heavens and the pretty earths Cry for the poor orphans who got stranded In the ugly tents of misery,
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I accept everything except the brutal injustice, I accept anything except the cruel hunger, I accept everything except the ugly homelessness, I accept anything except the mean humiliation,
I accept everything except the bad absurdity, I accept anything except insulting my dignity, and
I accept everything except the arrogant ignorance.
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I can not give my eyes, but only to those who look at them, I can not lend my ears, but only to those who can listen to them, I can not give my hands, but only to those who need them, I can not give my heart, but only to the one who loves it,
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