Adonis Diaries

Posts Tagged ‘old eagle

Notes and tidbits posted on FB and Twitter. Part 156

Note: I take notes of books I read and comment on events and edit sentences that fit my style. I pay attention to researched documentaries and serious links I receive. The page is long and growing like crazy, and the sections I post contains a month-old events that are worth refreshing your memory.

Water is a right, not a privilege. 2.4 million  children in Somalia and much more in Yemen desperately need clean drinking water.  They walk many kilometers for a daily water need, that is Not even clean for drinking. People were ready to walk 200 m for a bottle of water to support the less fortunate in their desperation
Once, the area of captivity was bombed and one of the militia was injured.  Rochot could hear the injured person in the next room and the kidnappers were at a loss what to do with their comrade.  For example, hostage Michel Seurat died of liver cancer in captivity and Seurat was moved to another room to cry out his pains and sufferings.

Old eagle, maybe the last of his species. Lonely, quiet, waiting for the storm. A chauffeur waiting for his master.

Israel has become a complete liability to all the colonial powers, especially the Evangelical Zionists, who wanted to transfer to and retain their Jews in Israel. It has dawned on many Israelis to get ready to transfer to their previous “Homes”

The colonial powers did everything to permit Israel to survive, and finally failed. If Israel desist from antagonizing the Palestinians and its neighboring States, it might survive another decade. Otherwise, it will disintegrate within five

L’obtretricien vit le cul du gros nouveau-ne’,  couvert de merde qui lui hurler: “Tu m’a tire’ dans ce monde. Debrouille toi pour me prover que ca vaut la peine de naitre”

On est virus, retro-virus (par des milliars dans notre corps). On est bacteries, cellules… qui se confrontent et collaborent. Et notre espece s’entretuent.

Notre espece a survecue grace aux retro-virus et bacteries. La raison et la logique donnent l’illusion qu’ on est intelligent: la pire calamite’ qui va detruire notre espece.

Are we witnessing an “Arab Winter upheaval”? Starting again from Tunisia? 7 years of crappy transition period is too much to bear. Did the colonial powers learned Not to meddle in people’s uprising?

This time around, Turkey, Saudi Kingdom and Qatar have more troubles internally to actively disturb another “Arab” uprising. The undertone of most of these current upheavals have the Jerusalem pronouncement as a catalyst.

Hezbollah need a grass-root Christian party as ally. Berry is playing with fire and is isolating himself in the coming election.

Tele’ Luniere ba3da bi tarateel milaad, 7atta osbou3 7azinat. Ba3dha, ya ma7la 3ashouraa2: bil al alam wa al mouddat


Time says: “My story of eagle and storm”; (Apr. 28, 2010)

Waiting for the storm to hit

How could they cope with a storm?

What could they do in the desert?

Where is the storm?

It is on the horizon, hesitating?

A tramp at the hotel entrance.

Old eagle, maybe the last of his species,

Lonely, quiet, waiting for the storm,

A chauffeur waiting for his master.

Old eagle is tired of tasting occasional serene clouds,

An old chef tasting the remains of a banquet.

Queen storm is taking her time in front of the mirror.

Old eagle is ready to chase out the storm up front;

What could an eagle could do with a worn out beak,

Decrepit and turned straight from frequent shattering on rocks.

How could old eagle hurry to meet the storm

A tottering bicycle crossing river bed?

For years, old eagle’s white feathers have been dirty,

Dirtier than an old waiter’s apron.

A gentle breeze nudging old eagle from rock to rock

From plain to plain

A bored old soldier in a camp

Anxious for his last battle, confronting a fly.

A soothing breeze floated over old eagle;

He fluttered, a youth touched by the first girl,

Old eagle heaves a sigh; he is reminiscing youth

Strong wings spanning the valley, glittering with sweat.

Tiny birds, out of breath, trailing valiantly behind,

Mobs running after the King’s horse

Chants hoarse, hallelujah feeble.

Old eagle is back dozing, sun scorching, epoch stretching out.

Suddenly, the universe blackened;

The world is still, but old eagle’s tail is waving.

Old eagle is hopping in circle,

A baby lamb welcoming its mother.

The storm thundered and hastened,

An ice skater showing off.

Old eagle is whispering an old victory song;

An eagle fallen off mountain tops,

A bride with no pendants and no cries.

Old eagle opened his old beak and retreated,

In respect of his old master and teacher.

Old eagle is spinning amid his broken plumes,

His shouts clacking like rifle bullets

A mass of blood, proudly lecturing

On the art of thirsting and ripping apart enemies.

The storm danced around old eagle and sneaked away.

Old eagle is mad; he is jumping cat like,

A scared baby stumbling for the door knob,

A drunkard coming back in the bar

Kicked out a hundred times.

Old eagle is wailing like a baby.

The storm lost steam on the sea shore,

Medals and crowns scattered’

The bludgeoned face of a boxer,

A drunk washing his face.

Mighty storm is aching:

It recollects that a tiny creature fought to death.

Mighty storm is sprawled on the beach:

A monstrous tent shrinking to a headgear,

Tears dropping in eagle’s shape.

Note: A liberal translation from a poem by late Syrian poet Mohammad al Maghout




December 2021

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