Saleh Badrah Poems

The mind is like a running brook
With mud and precious gems replete:

To spot the gems, stir not the mud;
...

Should you, my soul, who sailed to distant shores
And traced the founts of sweet serenity,
Be vexed and irked by those insidious frauds
Whose souls are fraught with spite and enmity?
...

(A Haiku)

The Lilliputians
are being themselves again,
...

Fast-running Time is running fast,
Transforming present into past.

Discard your schemes; no longer gleams
...

Who knows not the thief of time?
He's that fiend who slyly steals
And thrives upon suspended dreams,
Upon the things we could have done
...

They say that they have come to set us free
And that they're bringing us Democracy.
Democracy? That dainty entity
We read about in Greek philosophy,
...

Culture is the cultivation of the self,
The weeding out of inner rotten weeds,
The getting rid of inner 'stony rubbish',
The steady noiseless maturation of the intellect,
...

When envy grips a fellow's heart,
It makes him like a viper act.

It sprinkles venom in his brain,
...

I dream a gentle nightingale
Is sweetly singing on a tree
And that a crafty slimy fox
Is slyly watching from afar.
...

Upon a lonely hill, beneath a tree,
Within the boundless realm of reverie,
...