Days - - Poem by MOHAMMAD SKATI

Our days are starting with
Saturday, Sunday,
Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, and ending with Friday and so on
Stealing our pretty lives
By their continuation and
By their continual movement,
We come and we go, but
We don't feel other than our lives
Go faster and without any cease,
All our days are as they are
Simply because we don't feel their blessings,
Our days are hard and difficult
In all they carry in their folds...
We keep working and working
And nothing except working
Which has lacked days' blessing...
We do not feel in what
These days carry in those pretty moments ever
Yesterday, today, and tomorrow
Are only days of sufferings and pains...
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