From childhood's hour I have not been
As others were; I have not seen
As others saw; I could not bring
My passions from a common spring.
From the same source I have not taken
My sorrow; I could not awaken
My heart to joy at the same tone;
And all I loved, I loved alone.
Then- in my childhood, in the dawn
Of a most stormy life- was drawn
......
Mysterious death! who in a single hour
Life's gold can so refine
And by thy art divine
Change mortal weakness to immortal power!
Bending beneath the weight of eighty years
Spent with the noble strife
of a victorious life
We watched her fading heavenward, through our tears.
......
FROM off a hill whose concave womb reworded
A plaintful story from a sistering vale,
My spirits to attend this double voice accorded,
And down I laid to list the sad-tuned tale;
Ere long espied a fickle maid full pale,
Tearing of papers, breaking rings a-twain,
Storming her world with sorrow's wind and rain.
Upon her head a platted hive of straw,
Which fortified her visage from the sun,
......
FROM the forests and highlands
We come, we come;
From the river-girt islands,
Where loud waves are dumb
Listening to my sweet pipings.
The wind in the reeds and the rushes,
The bees on the bells of thyme,
The birds on the myrtle-bushes,
The cicale above in the lime,
And the lizards below in the grass,
......
There is a dark cloud over my head
With every move i make, every step i take
It keeps following me
Lord you know i want to free
Dark clouds, dark clouds, dark clouds
Now as the rain begins to fall, i feel so small
I'm always getting wet with the rain of prejudice
Look there is a mist of discrimation
And the fog of injustice
Dark clouds, dark clouds, dark clouds hanging over my head
......
Here sits the widow silent and pale, from the heart of darkness her sorrows hail. Mournful eyes, shattered thoughts, bloodless veins and soundless calls.
With her broken heart her mind would plea, her eyes are open but unable to see. A saddened look, and a tired heart, an endless journey that tore her apart.
Entrapped within, avoid of time, where the moaners sing, and misery rhymes. In the kingdom of grief, the widow resides, where the temples are haunted, and pain abides.
In the halls of hope the grievers meet, in search of comfort and a blissful seat. In total humility their hearts would pray, for peace of mind and a happier day.
Saleh Ben Saleh
Peaches heated by my sun
A dress so simple and so cotton
Would that child ever come
Back home
Where she is forgotten
Would the wind caress the ankles
Like it did so many times before
Would that land eventually remember
That her daughter is left outdoors?
......
The grass, not greener on the distant side, yet it gleams,
The hare treads, nibbles, undisturbed it seems,
Why do his steps not leave their mark?
Untrampled, untouched, in this tranquil park,
It accepts, it embraces, it quietly endures,
The hare's presence, its essence, it secures.
Here where I reside, the grass bears the weight,
I'm the hare, whose fate's a different state,
They hide and shield, no signs of disdain,
......
In the shadows of the mind, where darkness weaves its threads,
A sorrowed symphony of whispers fill the voids unsaid.
Where heavy hearts reside, and hope's ember wanes,
I gather words as balm to soften pain's gnarled chains.
Within this intricate tapestry, let me now explore,
The depths of sorrow and despair that life may have in store.
For in such fragile moments, when light seems far away,
A poem's embrace may offer solace, a glimpse of healing's ray.
......
There is a word
In my head
And it cuts like a sword
Killing me dead.
It's a syllable
That cuts like a knife
When I am not able
To handle my life.
......