when you are a kid
and live in a country that is soaked in black for this day
you think sun has been banned to shine on the world
you look at the sky and you see blood
you see mourners streaming by the casket with thirst and hunger
you are so small to comprehend
you just cry because your mother is crying
and you can’t wait for this day to be over
for sun to show up again
making every one happy
but when you are all grown up
and living in another land
where there is no black
no lack of sun shine
no mourners
and you have forgotten your mother
you are not waiting for anything to be over
or any happy event to show up tomorrow
in fact you are not even waiting for tomorrow
feeling guilty
not being able to even read a line or two from the verses of memories
Ali oh Ali
tell me about all the nights in that brown date garden of loneliness
cause in this diaspora
I scream with no voice into the deep well of my being
and your moon is my only witness…
