One, bright star,
In an otherwise dark sky.
That is what you are,
And now I know why.

Much like a star,
I could only observe from afar.
You were always there –
Radiant, with a certain flair.

I witnessed as you overcame nightmares,
As if you had the energy of a thousand solar flares.
Forged from unstoppable chemistry,
Leaving earth scorched with phenomenal synergies of energies.

I always saw you through this lens tinged with admiration.
Head and shoulders above the rest, a jewel of all creation.
I felt inadequacy by comparison, extensively -
I never respected myself enough,
I gave myself to people recklessly,
People who turned me cold and tough.

And so, our paths never crossed.
A faraway star you remained,
And over our friendship I casually glossed.
I was always coveting unspoken fantasies,
Never realising I was sheltering under broken canopies.

Perhaps you also had this thought.
Perhaps from afar, your own insecurities you also fought.
Never have I hoped with so much suspenseful delight
To see two stars collide;
I wish to fill up the darkness of this universe with light,
And bridge this divide.

Now that I’ve realised
I no longer need a canopy,
All I can think of
Are excuses to seek your company.

M’hemm ebda mod ieħor
Li stajt niddivina, biex forsi tisimgħuni –
Bil-Malti issa qlibt, jekk forsi qegħdin tinnutawni.
L-ewwel ħaġa:
Fehmuni għalfejn għadha tezisti d-duttrina.
Akkost li xi ħadd jibgħatni nieħdu jien u nirfes il-bankina,
Ser ngħidha!

Għax ma ngħallmux lit-tfal tagħna
Jifhmu l-imħabba lejn il-proxxmu
Minflok il-liġi inuffiċjali
‘Min mhux magħna kontra tagħna?’  
Għax ma nitgħallmux niddiskutu u niddibattu,
Forsi nċedu ftit, flok dejjem nċaħħdu u nirribattu?
Forsi immexxu bl-eżempju; flok immorru sa’ tempju
Nitpaxxew b’deheb misruq u b’moħħ magħluq,
Nitgħallmu nieqfu niskappaw u nistaħbew,
Wara wiċċ imżejjen falz, jew xi metafora.

It-tieni ħaga, u għalissa nieqaf haw’:
Fehmuni għalfejn lesti li l-futur taghna ninġazzaw?
Nikkompromettu, nidħlu fid-dejn,
Il-valuri tagħna nirremettu, basta fl-aħħar tax-xahar
Jidħlulna imqar dawk l-elfejn.

Qabli hawn oħrajn li dan il-kliem diġà qaluh –
Malta m’hijiex ward u żahar u kollox ifugħ.
Anzi, l-intiena tal-korruzzjoni tqanqallek id-dmugħ.
Jien ma ġejtx hawn biex immaqdar u nitlaq,
Nixtieq li nkunu konxji u nieħdu dak li jixraq.
Jekk inti tixtieq hekk ukoll,
Mela ejja ningħaqdu, għax għandna ħafna xoghol.

__________________

­[in English]

There is no other way I could divine
To make you hopefully listen to me –
You may have noticed I switched to Maltese.
The first thing on the list;
Can someone explain why (religious) doctrine still exists?
Although this may elicit someone’s anger as I step out on the sidewalk,
I shall say it!

Why don’t we teach our children
To understand loving one’s fellow man
Instead of the unofficial law
‘Whoever is not with us, is against us?’
Why don’t we learn to discuss and debate,
Maybe concede a bit, rather than deny and rebate?
Maybe lead by example; instead of going to a temple,
Awed by stolen gold and closed minds,
Learn to stop escaping and hiding
Behind a fake, decorated face, or a metaphor.

The second thing on the list, and I’ll stop ‘ere:
Can someone explain why we’re ready to ruin our future?
Compromising, racking up debt,
Our values we are regurgitating as long as, at the end of the month,
We get a couple thousand (as in, money).

Others before me have already said these words –
Malta isn’t all flowers and roses, and not everything is fragrant.
Actually, the stench of corruption will make you cry.
I am not here to complain and leave,
I just wish we’d be aware so we can get what we deserve.
If you want this as well,
Then let us join together, for we have a lot of work to do.

Sumer, the people of ancient Mesopotamia.
Known to us as nascent humanity;
Spreading across the world quickly,
Like news of a calamity.
They existed thousands of years ago,
A civilisation truly gifted,
Knowledge of whom many of us forgo.

They were but one shade in a kaleidoscope of human presence.
Kings of the Fertile Crescent –
Establishing empires or mastering commerce,
Starting fires or learning to converse.
Mankind in its infancy,
A bloom of activity and artistry.
In our attempts at deciphering our history,
We turn to the relics of their poetry,
Discoveries that are a historian’s ultimate victory.

‘The love song of Shu-Sin’ –
The world’s oldest, known reference to love.
Written thousands of years ago,
Possibly older than we do know.
It is a rite of marriage, a recital;
In it lies a passage, one that needs a revival.
It is about a vow that we have now twisted,
An exquisite message that leaves one’s spirit lifted.

The bride promises the following to the groom;
To act as a refuge when all that seems to loom is doom and gloom.
To caress, love, and soothe.
To savour beauty and intimacy,
To be like honey, sweet and smooth.

The king - a man who was thought divine,
A man whose life was valued more than yours or mine,
A man who could eternally wine and dine –
That man was still no sultan to love.
His heart was still in the palms of his beloved,
Their naked frames intertwining, arched and cusped.
His hold on her is not one of force,
Nor a promise of power,
But rather earned in due course,
Like the development of a beautiful flower.

I grieve beyond words when I think
Of how love, nowadays, is on the brink.
The glue that holds life itself together,
Discarded by many, like an ex’s letter.
I look at the eyes of people I’d love to be with,
And in their expression, I discover a graveyard of sad memories.
Scars that feel indelible, past histories -
Souls that look like war-torn territories.

I look at my own eyes in the mirror,
And see a starving spirit, growing thinner.
I see a window for restoration, becoming slimmer.
Sometimes I hopefully wonder – is there a glimmer?
Is there another hungry apparition,
On a desperate search for heavenly admission?
I seem to have forgotten how to love,
And do not know how to rid myself of this condition.