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Aseel Aug 2017
فقدتُ اهتمامي بكلّ شيء، يرتديني الضجر، و لا صبر لي لانتظار النهايات، أو الاستماع لأحدهم يتحدثُ عن يومه. أبترُ مقطوعة موسيقية لأبدأ من وسط أُخرى، أكتفي بمشاهدة عشر دقائق من الأفلام، أقرأ صفحةً من كلّ كتابٍ بجانب سريري، و لا أجلسُ في مكان واحد لما يزيد عن دقيقتين.

I no longer care about anything.
boredom covers my body, and I can't even be patient enough to wait for the end, any end, or to hear you talking about your day.
I cut one peace of music to start from the middle of another one. I watch 10 minutes from each movie and read a page from each book on my desk.
I can't stay in one place for more than two minutes.
And I'm bored. I'm bored with people, life, and myself.
Jawad Jun 2017
هي الرجال تبكي
بصمت
كادب بليغ
يستمع اليه الاشباح
اشباح ليل طويل

ولكن الدموع
تسري تحت الجفون
تحت الوجون
تحت الصدور
كأحجار قبر
تواري جثث احلام وجهود وفشل
مضت منذ دهور

وتمتزج الدموع
بدماء وعرق وقلق
خالقة بحرا ميتا
من علقم مالح
تطوف على سطحه الامنيات
بسكون حكيم

والعمر يمر
وتتبخر السنين
تاركة ورائها ارض بور
تتشقق من الجفاف
تشبه صدور الأبطال
طعنتها مُدى الأيام
في معركة تعيسة
لمدة سنين

ويسخر الزمان
بنكات بائسة
من مأسي الرجال
ويبتسم الدهر
ويهز برأسه
ثم ينظر الى أفق بعيد

~~~

Men cry too
In silence
Like eloquent literature
Listened to by ghosts
The ghosts of a long night

But the tears
Flow under the eyelids
Under the cheeks
Under the chests
Like tombstones
The resting places of dreams and efforts and failures
Gone a long time ago

And the tears mix
With blood and sweat and worries
Creating a dead sea
Of salty poison
Dreams floating on its surface
In wise tranquility

And age goes by
And years evaporate
Leaving behind them infertile soils
Cracked from drought
Like the chests of heroes
Stabbed with the knives of days
In a miserable battle
That went on for years

Time makes fun
With lame jokes
Of the miseries of men
And life smiles
Shakes it head
And look away into the far horizon...
My previous poem morphed into another one about men's miseries, but this time and for the first time in ARABIC..
Lynn Al-Abiad Jun 2017
و لذُروَة الحُب، غَشاوَة



لين اا -
و لذُروَة الحُب، غَشاوَة


18/06/2017
Derrick Feinman Dec 2016
الله أكبر
ברוך אתה הי
Reveal yourself, please
Lynn Al-Abiad Apr 2016
بنصف البحر، أنا و إنت حاملين وردة
و الموج قايم قاعد
و السما صافية
و ريحة الوردة عم ب تمَلّي روايينا
و الموج عم بي جرب ياخد الوردة من بين ايدينا على قعر البحر
و نحنا عم نطَلَّع بي عينين بعض و عم نبتسم
و مش خايفين من إنو هل وردة تختفي بين طيّات الموجات


In the middle of the sea, you and I are holding a flower
And the tide is high
And the sky is clear
And the scent of the flower is filling our lungs
And the tide is trying to take the flower away from our hands to the bottom of the sea
And we are looking at each other and we're smiling
And we're not afraid to lose our flower in the folds of the waves.


لين اا -
- LynnAA
نبّش أكتر
Search harder

29/4/2016
Elie Moukarzel Dec 2015
إنت جوا القلب وغافي
واسمك كل ما مرق ع شفافي
بوعي فيي الإحساس
بحرك فيي المشاعر
قلبي بزيد الدقات
وبتحلا بعيني الحياة

وبحس بفرحة ايامي أنا ومعك
برقص ع نغمة صوتك وبسمعك
وع دقت قلبك بلحن غنيي
فيها حب العالم والحنيي

إنت جوا القلب وغافي
واسمك كل ما مرق ع شفافي
بيسرئني من كل الناس
ع أجمل مطرح بسافر
قلبي بزيد الدقات
وبتحلا بعيني الحياة
David N Juboor Sep 2015
The first word in Arabic
You ever taught me
Was Aoheb:

Love,
Spelled G-I-V-E
The kind that
I forgot what I was
When I felt you holding me.

But only privately.

Like crossing the street,
We look both ways
Before our hands meet.
Because even though
it's okay for me
Culturally..

We don't do that
Until we're married.

But just like
The next words
You taught me,
Ana fahemt:
I understand.

Like that time
I called you a beautiful Woman..
You got so mad because
You want to stay a girl forever.

Baby,
I never
Want to grow up
Together

I want to grow in.

So give me a garden
To come home to
Give me a heart
I can roam through

When it's 3AM
And both of us
Have ****. to. do.

One day,
When we're tired
Of learning each other's language
You can call me Frankie,
And frankly,
I'll fly you to the moon.

Give my very breath to you
I'll keep you so warm
In my arms that baby,
Your blood will boil.

And I don't mean to spoil the fun
But could you please put that
Super cute face of yours away?

Because
Your smile,
Is so bright
Solar radiation
Needs sunglasses.
And even though
You're sweet as molasses
I don't think that Nasa's
Satellites can handle that
Amount of sunshine right now.

I think
"Ana bufuker."
...really? .. "Ana buhfucker?..
Whatever.. Ana bafaker:
I think,
Google translate is awful.
Especially when it involves
Conversations with your
Your dad and me

Because honestly
I always think I'm gonna
Say the wrong thing
At the wrong time.

And I always just end up
Saying the wrong thing
at the wrong time.
But somehow you always
Seem to know how to
read my mind.

So
Habiby. Aomry. Hayaty.
My love, My life, My age...

...And the rest of the poem is none of your business.

Truly. It's between that girl and I.
But I will say this though:
We don't talk much anymore
And I'm not really sure why.
But I know that
Somewhere out there,
In-between all of the *******
Of our daily lives;

There is a girl that
Is going to speak my language.
Jessica Dec 2014
بحبك
With each day even more

بحبك
And beyond

Even with your flaws and world
You're still my perfection
My addiction
My all

بحبك
that's my only word
"بحبك" ( pronounced bhebak ) : means i love you in arabic
Dark Jewel Oct 2014
Beyond the past,
Beyond our future.
Evolution is inevitable.

Change,
Will always be apart of,
THIS sand of time.

AS the dreams commence,
As our path becomes clear.
The treasuring reward,
Is within the crystal sphere.

One finds its true dream,
Within the universe that bonds.
Finding Thy Destiny,
Beyond the red sands.
A poem that was revised for a Book presentation
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