The Renewed Past Poem by Besma Jemaa

This time, it's not poetry,
Not even a philosophy,
This time, it's the pure melancholy,
It's never something new
Which I am going through
But it seems that the old can renew
That feeling of knowing nothing for sure,
Looking everywhere, waiting for cure,
From that melancholy on the edge of the fool
That mixture of feeling
Makes me upside down whirling
Just like a wheel on an endless way
Oh! God! How can destiny be unfair?