Rain song

Eltezamnews - Bader Shaker Al sayab Rain songDrop,Drop,Drop, Evening yawned, from low cloudsHeavy tears are streaming still. It is as if a child before sleep were rambling onAbout his mother (a year ago he went to wake her, did not find her; Then when he kept on asking, he was told:"After tomorrow, she'll come back again"   That she must come back again,
Rain song

Eltezamnews – Bader Shaker Al sayab

Rain song
Drop,
Drop,
Drop,

Evening yawned, from low clouds
Heavy tears are streaming still.

It is as if a child before sleep were rambling on
About his mother (a year ago he went to wake her, did not find her; Then when he kept on asking,

he was told:
“After tomorrow, she’ll come back again”

That she must come back again,

Yet his playmates whisper that she is there
In the hillside, sleeping her death for ever,

Eating the earth around her, drinking the rain;

As if a forlorn fisherman gathering nets
Cursed the waters and fate

And scattered a song at moonset,
Drip, drop, the rain
Drip, drop, the rain

Do you know what sorrow the rain can inspire?

And how gutters weep when it pours down?

 Do you know how lost a solitary person feels in the rain?

Endless,- like spilt blood, like hungry people, like love, like children, like the dead,-

Endless the rain.

Your two eyes take me wandering with the rain,

Lightning’s from across the Gulf sweep

The shores of Iraq

With stars and shells,

As if a dawn were about to break from them

But night pulls over them a coverlet of blood.

I cry out to the Gulf: “O Gulf,
Giver of pearls, shells and death!”

And the echo replies, as if lamenting:

I can almost hear Iraq husbanding the thunder,

Storing lightning in the mountains and plains,

So that if the seal were broken by men

The winds would leave in the valley not a trace of Thamud.

I can almost hear the palmtrees drinking the rain,

Hear the villages moaning and emigrants
With oar and sail fighting

 The Gulf winds of storm and thunder, singing
Rain.. rain..rain (Drip, drop, the rain)

And there is hunger in Iraq,

The harvest time scatters the grain in-it,

That crows and locusts may gobble their fill,

Granaries and stones grind on and on,

Mills turn in the fields, with humans turning
Drip, drop, the rain
Drip, Drop, Drop

How many tears we shed when came the night for leaving

We made the rain an excuse, not wishing to be blamed
Drip, drop, the rain
Drip, drop, the rain

Since we had been children, the sky
Would be clouded in wintertime,

And down would pour the rain,

And every year when earth turned green the hunger struck us.

Not a year has passed without hunger in Iraq.
Rain
Drip, drop, the rain
Drip, drop
In every drop of rain

A red or yellow color buds from the seeds of flowers.

Every tear wept by the hungry and naked people

And every spilt drop of slaves’ blood

Is a smile aimed at a dawn

A nipple turning rosy in an infant’s lips
In the young world of tomorrow, bringer of life.
Drip…..
Drop…..
(the rain . . .In the rain)
Iraq will blossom one day

I cry out to the Gulf: “O Gulf:

Giver of pearls, shells and death!”

 The echo replies as if lamenting

‘O Gulf: Giver of shells and death.”

And across the sands from
among its lavish gifts
The Gulf scatters fuming froth and shells

And the skeletons of miserable drowned emigrants
Who drank death forever
From the depths of the Gulf, from the ground of its silence,

And in Iraq a thousand serpents drink the nectar

From a flower the Euphrates has nourished with dew.

I hear the echo
Ringing in the Gulf:
Rain . . .
Drip, drop, the rain . . .
Drip, drop.

In every drop of rain

A red or yellow color buds from the seeds of flowers.

Every tear wept by the hungry and naked people
And every spilt drop of slaves’ blood

Is a smile aimed at a dawn

A nipple turning rosy in an infant’s lips

In the young world of tomorrow, bringer of life.

And still the rain pours down

برچسب : , , ,

مطالب پیشنهادی :

نوشتن دیدگاه

تمام حقوق این سایت برای © 2019 پایگاه خبری تحلیلی التزام - هفته نامه التزام. محفوظ است.