White Fruit Juice And The Red Alcohol Poem by Akhtar Jawad

The journey started from a familiar place,
Colorful faces of kind trees, red or white or pink,
Some with green leaves and aromatic flowers,
One hiding the juicy fruits for a lovely drink.

The white juice that was fermented as red alcohol,
Gave extra ordinary beats to my infant heart,
Forced me to crawl on the carpet of the grass,
Standing with the trunks, for me was a great art.

Always thankful for the white juice I had sucked,
That was reprocessed within me and turned red,
How firmly I stood up among so many trees,
Joyfully I walked on the earth's green bed.

Like a thief silently I opened the big main gate,
Found myself on a romantic lane of adventure,
And when I got a thief like me on my way,
Heart beats were regulated, now a pleasure.

Fearlessly I went to the road with a friend,
With a hand in hand I crossed the busy road,
Walked with courage and arrived at the highway,
Jumping like frogs was now the helpless toad.

We arrived in a garden of flowers and fountains
Saw two buds, dancing on the swing of wind blows,
Pink petals peeping out through the receptacles,
I put my lips on the glass of inviting windows.

Friendship like a full moon brought in the tides,
An electrical charge the red alcoholic induce.
And when I kissed a half opened bud in the leaves,
Love; pacified red alcohol; a gift of the white juice.

Thanks to the tall and dense tree for the fruits
With the sweetness of love that counters violence,
Thanks for the white juice that brought me up,
How I can repay this debt of a mother's endurance!