Poem 059: Lament For The Past Poem by Samer Madbak

Now where are they the days of yesterday
The blood of youth, the arbitrary play,
The saintly village and the vale divine,
The cordial elements, dread and sibylline?
Could I to life those olden times restore
Or must they pass to come back nevermore?

Where are the lissome friends of yesteryears,
The happy faces, where are you my peers?
Where are the sires of simplicity,
The artless eyes, the hands of charity?
Material goals have petrified their core
And squandered them, united nevermore.

Where are the limpid mornings of July
The gravid vineyard; tempter of the eye?
Where are the evening tales, the verdant ways,
The shady nut, the rocky seats, the lays?
Time rushes! Fables die, the sycamore
Weeps loneliness, and hymns now nevermore.

Where are the merry children, where’s the kirk?
The lusty harvesters set out to work,
The endless fields, where is the rising mist,
The coppices upon the valley’s list?
The church is now so different from before
And Mother Nature stretches nevermore.

Where are you Camille, dearest friend of mine,
Where are the hearty prom’nades vespertine?
Th’unearthly dialogues, a lambent moon
Awhile a joke, anon a thoughtful swoon?
Now bonny walks ne’er as they were of yore
And prating, ruminating, nevermore.

Where are you paining spirit? Answer me!
What boot in such a life of scarcity?
Where Love lies heavy-hearted, Beauty dun,
Sweet Hope defeated, pleasure woe-begone?
What profit? Good times I cannot restore
Phantoms to pass and come back nevermore!


Beirut
June 21st 1989