Adonis Diaries

The wandering Syrian

Posted on: July 25, 2016

Downgraded Gypsy; (Apr. 17, 2010)

I am a hero… Where’s my people?

I am a traitor… Where’s my scaffold?

I am a pair of shoes… Where’s my road?

I walk Downtown mixing with busy souls

I am in no hurry; the masses don’t carry me:

I am a leader and I am searching for my way.

I rest a while on the pavement; is it illegal?

I rest my eating tin plate by my side;

I learned to recognize the chimes of dimes and nickels falling in the plate

I don’t complain; I say thanks when I feel reprieve, tired of my condition.

 

I am a downgraded gypsy who burned his caravan

Quitted my clan, lured by greed in the city.

I extend my arms feeling for a sheltered wall

What’s a clear stream to a blind deer?

What’s horizon to a caged bird?

My ears learned to screen off piercing sounds

I can’t hear the wailing of bereaved mothers

I can’t hear the howling of frenzied mobs

I hear the moaning of latent pains permeating the smog

I hear the soft whistling of permanent suffering

Converging from all directions

From far away, scorched lands.

 

Slaves chewed off their chains:

They are nostalgic for chains smelling moulding bread.

Up north terrors; down south famine;

Dusty winds are clouding the east; and crows are obscuring the western horizon.

 

A little girl is sitting by this modern gypsy;

She dips her left small hand in a little bag and takes out a handful of dirt;

She grabs the dirt containing a strange specimen of earth wealth;

Dirt holding half a wing of a butterfly, a decapitated bee,

Shreds of shrapnel of cluster bombs,

A whiff of blood, a stench of urine.

 

Concentrated dirt of fear, human degradation,

Contaminated greed of a dying earth.

No more revolutions, no drastic changes,

No activities demanding eternal God given human rights;

Mankind is on his knees, in abject humiliation

Begging pardon of his executioner

For the swiftest relief.

Note 1: I borrowed a few images from the late Syrian poet Mohammad al Maghout.

Note 2: Mohammad al Maghout passed away in the 90’s, but this poem matches the current Syrian conditions

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1 Response to "The wandering Syrian"

Reblogged this on canisgallicus and commented:
Pope Francis says what we know ‘World at War but it is not about Religion’. Life and humanity is much more basic. It is about people. This poem delves deep into the soul. It asks people to listen and let education create tolerance. Then we can move towards Peace.
A poem I recommend as we approach the anniversary of Hiroshima/Nagasaki is written by the Cistercian Monk Thomas Merton – Original Child. We do not want nuclear devastation again is what the poem tells us.

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