Her streets gleam not, but lie in disrepair
The sun does shimmer down through smog of grey
A stench sometimes does filter through the air
The lanes for cars, they go naught but one way
The Nile, dark and polluted she may be
But houseboats and felluccas sail her still
Through deltas does she flow into the sea
I see all this atop my windowsill.
At night the moon illuminates all things
To cast them in a very different light
Upon the water shows it's lighted rings
To make Cairo at dusk a haunting sight
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem