Poem 102, Sonnet 48: Sorrow Springs Eternal Poem by Samer Madbak

I am…what am I but the tree of grief
That grows forev’r amid this verdant wood?
An eyesore in this grand beatitude
A foul arborescence, a saffron leaf…
What am I - to the Pruner's disbelief -
But branches that oppose vicissitude?
An idle stand, a fruitless lassitude,
I am Dolor’s delight, Burden’s relief.
And 'spite the lively winds that break my withes
I live on! 'spite the vim, the seasons vernal
Galling my bole, the elements diurnal,
Ev’n if I fall to Fortune’s axe, Time’s scythes,
Ev’n if I die, preserved remains my kernel,
My woe endures, my sorrow springs eternal!


Adelaide
October 2nd 1993