nasamat min bilady

FOR YOU

2008-02-24T06:00:00.000-08:00

To the memory of my father rahimahullah

For you,

It’s cool to drive home

An almond-eyed cool blonde

Picked up in Paris or in Rome.

For you,

It’s cool to score a goal in Liverpool

Against Real Madrid or Lazio Rome.

For you,

It must be fine to savour wine

And spaghetti while listening to Pavarotti.

For you,

It’s great to have £ 8,000 in hand

Or to land a higher rank in a central bank.

For you,

It’s a delight to the eyes

To watch sunrise in the dunes of Morocco.

For you,

It’s beyond telling the joy of jogging in Monaco.

Let alone the joy of shopping in Hanoi

Or riding a mule in Illinois.

For you,

Time is Now, life in Now,

And there’s nothing to be said

For there’s no other life ahead.

For you,

Life is the kitchen and the bed.

Well, that’s you.

As for me,

Life is Now and Tomorrow.

Life is joy and sorrow.

For me,

I would love to hear Allahu Akbar

From a minaret in Madagascar.

I would love to hear an imam

Talk of Islam in Amsterdam,

Or speak to the children of Leeds

About the worth of good deeds.

I would love to see girls pray

To Allah at Broadway.

I would love to see boys making a lot of noise

Simply because they say

It’s just as lovely

To be a Muslim in Sydney

As in Harlem or Boston !

I would love to see people

From all over the world

Flying as one bird

To meet round the Ka’ba

To say what the Queen of Sheba

Learnt from Solomon :

There’s no God but Allah.

Praise, Praise to Allah !

___________________

NO MORE

2008-02-10T06:40:00.000-08:00

Ali LAGOUADER

No more will you knock at our door.
No more will you walk on our floor.
No more will you drink our tea.
No more will you see what we see.
No more will you hear what we hear.
No more will you fear a fear.
No more will you shed a tear.
No more will you enjoy our foods.
No more will you tread our roads.
No more will you roam our woods.
No more will you inquire after me.
No more will you smile at me.
No more will you call my name,
But all the same
And despite all the pain
You stood to gain
When you clearly said
Just days before you were dead:
أشهد أن لا إلاه إلا الله
و أشهد أن محمدا رسول الله
اللهم لك الحمد على ما أعطيت
اللهم لك الحمد على ما أعطيت
اللهم لك الحمد على ما أعطيت
You said it yourself, dad,
And we were all, all sad
For we feared time might be up, father,
And you wouldn’t go farther.
It’s hard, hard, hard
To bear to see you there
In the graveyard –
While we are here,
Where we can’t hear
Your voice or see your smile.
But it’s only a while
And we shall all be there!
I know your bones may decay
I know the worms may eat your flesh away,
But your soul will remain whole
And one day you will revive
And stay alive
For ever and ever.
And I know also
That we shall all go:
No money will keep us for ever.
No medecines will keep us for ever.
No doctor will live for ever.
Praise to Allah Who never dies!
Praise to Allah Who made Paradise!

اللهم ارحم أبي و أسكنه فسيح جناتك
اللهم اجعلنا خير خلف لخير سلف

"إنا لله و إنا إليه راجعون"

وداعا يا أبي

2008-02-06T06:54:00.000-08:00

Ali LAGOUADER

قد غبت يا أبي و الجو ربيع

فإذا قطرات الندى دموع

و إن غبت يا أبي فإنا

على العهد كما كنا

ما لي يا أبي دمع أدرفه

و لا كلام أعرفه

يشفي غليلي يا أبي

و لكن حسبي أن تظل خليلي

و لو بطيفك يا أبي

و إن جفت من عيني الدموع

فهواك باق في الضلوع

وداعا يا أبي وداعا

و ما ضاع مؤمن ما ضاعا

و لا إلاه إلا الله

و لا حول إلا بالله

و إلى جنات الخلد

إن شاء الله

" و إنا لله و إنا إليه راجعون"

Cheer up!

2008-02-02T04:04:00.000-08:00

What’s wrong with your tongue?
Can’t you say Subhanallah?
Can’t you say Ma Sha Allah?
Shake off that gloom!
And let your face bloom!
Or did your team go down in esteem
By losing Three-Nil to Brazil?
Or did you lose your job?
Oh, no, don’t be a snob!
Don’t ape those in good shape!
Say Subhanallah! Say Ma Sha Allah!
And pray and pray to Allah
Till hope comes your way,
Ray by ray!
No, don’t think of Tsunami!
Think of the beaches of Miami!
Think of Amazon flowers!
Think of New York towers!
Don’t think of King Lear or even Shakespeare!
But think of Allah and you’ll steer
Right for the Light of Faith –
The Faith that’ll give you powers
And blessings in showers,
And your face will excel all flowers
In beauty and freshness!
Blessed be Allah! And Allah bless you,
For your goodness!

I Love Your Veil

2007-10-18T03:54:00.000-07:00

I REALLY LOVE YOUR VEIL

What’s all this tale about the veil?
Fred and Gail shout and hail
Straw as hero
For his hail of fire on Aïsha’s attire.
Did Straw want Aïsha to show
Herself from head to toe?
Let Gail wear a mini-skirt
For her flirt.
And let Aïsha wear on her face
Or on her hair
Whatever piece
That would bring her peace
Vis-à-vis God and vis-à-vis Man.
Oh, man!
Why d’you wish her to disclose
Her beautiful eyes and nice nose
Or her lips or her hips
If that belongs to her?
Come on, Sir!
That body you want her to show
Is a diamond dearer than the glow
Of the face of Marilyn Monroe!

مناجاة

2007-10-18T03:25:00.000-07:00

وطني، لم لا تتكلم؟ وطني، لم تتلعتم؟

وطني، حبيبي، تكلم

قل: أنا عربي، نعم، أنا عربي

و أطربني و زد في طربي

غن لي ما غنت ملوك الأدب

غن لي ما غنت دنانير

فأنا لا أهوى ما تهوى الجماهير
أنا أهوى ما غنى ابن زيدون للقمر

أنا أهوى ما قال شوقي للعربان و الغجر

أنا أهوى ما قال البارودي للنيل و الشجر

قل لي ما قال ابن خفاجة للزهر و الوتر

غن لي ما غنى المتنبي عن السيف و القلم

ألا تعلم أنا كنا أبهى الأمم؟

أتراك نسيت المتنبي؟ أم نسيت أنك عربي؟

أم أنك لا تعرف أحمد شوقي؟

أم أنك لا تعرف مجنون ليلى، امام العشق؟

أم أنك لا تعرف الهوى الدمشقي؟

لا، يا وطني

قل: أنا عربي، نعم، أنا عربي

و غن ما غنى أبو ريشة و ابن المرحل

و ما غنى المجدوب للمقهور و المحبوب

و ما غنى للنجوم الرحل

غن لي : يا جارة الوادي

و أسمع الصديق و الأعادي

و لا تخش الا الله، و قل

أنا عربي، نعم، أنا عربي

و أطربني و زد في طربي

و غن لي ما غنت ملوك الأدب
دنانير ابن زيدون احمد شوقي البارودي ابن خفاجة المتنبي مجنون ليلى أبو ريشة
يا جارة الوادى لاحمد شوقى ...

أوراق: عبد الرحمن المجدوب : نبع من حكمة

بلادي

2007-10-01T04:18:00.000-07:00

أحبك، بلادي، حب الصبايا للفساتين
أحبك، بلادي، حب الطيور للبساتين
أحبك حب النحل للياسمين
أحبك حب الفراش للرياحين
أحبك حب الرهبان للقرابين
أحبك حب الجنود للنياشين
أحبك حب الشعراء للسلاطين
أحبك حب الكفار للشياطين
أحبك حب الكعبة للحجاج الميامين
أحبك في كل وقت وحين
ها أنذا قد أعلنت حبي ، يا بلادي

فهل تحبيني؟

Would Sindbad...

2007-09-23T10:18:00.000-07:00

Would Sindbad be sad or glad
To be back in Baghdad?
Would he be happy
To stay amid boys and tanks?
Or rather say, “No, thanks!
Bye!I’ll fly to New York!”
Would he eat camel meat or pork
In New York?
Would he have milk and dates?
Or chips and Coke in New York?
Would he play the guitar?
Or the lute and flute in New York?
Would he study democracy at N.Y.U.?
Or tell the Arabian Nights in Jersey City?
Would he miss Layla in New York?
Would he like the people there
On Washington Square?
Would he fall in love in New York?
Would he say, “Get down, baby!”
Or, “If only you knew how much I care!”?
Would he go on air
And say, “Hi Bush and Blair!
No one’s lost, no one’s won.
Stop the war! And let’s move on!”

I Wanna Be a Beeh

2007-09-23T10:11:00.000-07:00

Ana 'ayez eeh?
Well, I wanna be a beeh:
A guy seated in a high
Chair, swinging my feet,
Stroking my hair,
Drinking all that’s sweet
While my secretary smiles at me,
Waves at me,
Sings me Um Koultoum,
Drives all the gloom
Away from me.
I wanna be a beeh
With a moustache and a beard;
A great guy to be feared
At the office and in the car,
Dazzling those who see me from afar.
I wanna be a beeh
With a great hanem,
Great in shape like the women of Harlem,
But gentle like an ape,
Not like a Kheddewi hanem.
I wanna be a beeh
With a Havana cigar,
With a Limousine car.
I wanna have the look of a star.
I wanna be a beeh
Dearer than the gueneeh,
Dearer than the charm of Nancy Ajram,
Dearer than freedom
For the detainees at Bagram.
I wanna be a beeh
In a grey suit and red tie,
With a long stick and large purse,
Making everyone look shy
Like an impotent man
In front of a nurse!
Oh, but just tell me why :
Why can't I be that beeh?

Bravo!

2007-09-23T09:47:00.000-07:00

Salut à toi, Inconnu!
J'aime l'odeur de la sueur sur ta tenue.
Toi qui fais des rêves et tentes
D'en faire du vrai, malgré
Tout ce qu'ils disent et ressentent
Envers toi.
J'aime le sérieux qui brille dans tes yeux.
J'aime ton regard quand tu oses voir
La gloire là où seuls
Les malades de paresse, qui rient sans cesse,
Et refusent de fermer leurs gueules,
Ne voient que mirages.
Mais toi, roi du bricolage,
Ton courage rend les nuages
Des poupées entre tes doigts.
Et moi je dois te rendre hommage;
Je te dis à haute voix:
Salut à toi, Inconnu!
Salut à la sueur sur ta tenue!