Adonis Diaries

Archive for June 18th, 2020

Life or the living? This charlatan of a magician

We want to believe we had a dream,

As a kid, reckless, careless, cheerful, forgetful

We must have had a dream, everybody says so…

We cling to that forgotten dream,


Gone with the wind for mysterious reasons.

Now adult and mad, for never recalling what was this beautiful dream

And we create another delusional dream,

Weaved out of and around the skills and talents we scrambled feverishly to acquire and boast of.


And we go crazy, seeing the world in black and white,

Struggling to be convinced that a dream must be an all-right world

Fighting the Great Evil, the Great Satan, master of all the wrong values

And we commit the most absurd acts of violence

On these criminal elements, poisoning our dream value system,

And we go on rampage, carrying banners of the most idiotic arbitrary concepts



We blame our disillusion on these chaotic and vile realities that is life,

This “foul dust

Fooling us on a full moonlight

Watching this staircase, a ladder to heaven,

Perched up high to suck on the pap of life

Gulping down the incomparable milk of wonder…”


Along the way, we missed

These streaks of happy moments,

Failed to observe the real people

Characters rich in complex reality of life.


Along the way, we got lost, and we missed

To empathize with the pain, frustration of all the others’

Diverse dreamers of all kinds of “illusory dreams“,

Just like ours…


This foul dust amidst our chimeric failure,

To whatever we convinced ourselves we were after. for success and happiness

And we are getting old, really old,

And we reach this famous conclusion that

It was all illusion, a drama we played on this comical stage


As if we ever started with anything more than a delusional dream.

Loss of the illusion,

This heavy baggage grown-ups carry and nurse

To enjoy this acrid taste:

Licking our self-made wounds


The hero who wants to end a martyr

For all the dreamers of a better world…

And we missed the reveries, sources of our impossible imagination,

We missed the fact that the rock of our world

“Was and should be founded on a fairy’s wing

Note: Borrowed a few sentences from Fitzgerald novels

Beggars our “leaders”, pickpockets are our leaders

In the last 30 years, our militia/mafia Leaders made it a point of honor to just beg and borrow money in order to replenish their treasuries.

Sha7adeen ya baladna.

Nashaleen ya baladna.

شحّادين يا بلَدنا
قالو عَنّا شحّادين
نشّالين يا بلدنا
قالو عنّا نشّالين
ونِحنا مين يا بلدنا
نحنا شوَيِّة مظلومين
مظلومين يا بلدنا
إيه وحياتك مظلومين

عطشانين يا بلدنا
والمَيّ بخَمسَه وستّين
جوعانين يا بلدنا
وما عنّا رزّ ولا طحين
طفرانِين يا بلدنا

والبنوكِه مليانين
ومحتارين يا بلدنا
لْ مين منِشكي محتارين
… وُزَرا ونوّاب… لِلبَيع
مُدَرا وحُجّاب… لِلبَيع
شُعَرا وكتّاب… للبَيع
باب وبِوّاب… للبَيع

وليش منُسرق… ما سألتونا
منسرق لأنّو سَرقونا
ليش منبِيع ما سألتونا
منبِيع لأنّو باعونا

سَرقونا الكبار
وباعونا الكبار
ونحنا حراميِّه دراويش
زغار… زغار… زغار

ميشال طعمه ( ١٩٧٤)

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Arabian Peninsula antiquity poems: Wars, Love crazed

Note: Re-edit of “Love crazed, Wars.. in Arabian antiquity poems May 22, 2015

Love crazed, Wars.. in antiquity Arabic poems

Loving crazily Leila

I see us in my daydream: 2 gazelles

Peacefully grazing, in the distant pastures of Hawzan

I see us in the desert: 2 pigeons flying back to our nest

Two fish in the waves of the great sea

I see us together in the tomb.

Retreated far away from the world

We will watch a new life resuscitated.

The universe reunited, the meeting eternal

(Majnun Layla (Qays ibn Mullawa3) was denied his wedding with cousin Leila and died very young.

After his death, the legend says that this poet was recognized as the poet laureate of the tribe.


War as described by Zuhair ibn Abi Salma

War is what you have witnessed

It’s not a conjecture

As you ignite war, it surges abominable

As young you excite for war, war flares up

Out of control

War will grind you to the bones

Twice ignited per year, war will produces twins

As sinister as the red star Aad

The more you breastfeed these twins

The more devastated  and laid to waste are the villages in Iraq.

(Zuhair ibn Abi Salma lived long and witnessed the emergence of Islam.)

He is famous for the opening line:

When you live to be 80, without a father, you are doomed to boredom”




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