The Sorrows Poem by basim al aoda

The sorrows

O, chronic sorrows,
Dissolve each graceful,
In order to vanish,
May be rainbow colors,
Become mountains,
For the land of lemon,
Excusable …..
You were already,
An exemplar,
For lovers and heading,
To the disdain,
Now, I am saying to you:
Let me in my beautiful dimness,
With my pain symphony,
You are an insane candle,
O, my comrade –
Push away unseen desire,
And together delight,
In order to count,
What we can of stars –
In darkness day.


Basim Al Aoda
2007