ADNAN AL-RIKANI

You Are The Losers

They say her dowry is obedience
O wounded by the fire of alienation
Don't chase after empty invitation bubbles...
The veil fell from Antara's face
Al-Shayboub raises the elite of submission
In the name of peace...
O Gaza, open your doors
Here our powerful armies have come to sleep
O wounded Gaza, open your doors
Here our dreams have come, to be hung with the scent of smoke
The promise did not come on horseback
There is no lightning in his justice, what we used to call Al-Hussam
Oh, wounded by the fire of exile...
That red sultan
He blows an ostrich feather and chatters among the crowd
And they desire the books of the Torah
Taken from the eyes of children
Watering the sanctuary
And the ink of dusk
And the revelation of heaven
And angel’s cry
Before the throne they are witnesses
Woe to those who pray, said the Lord
He knows the unseen and you are the losers.!!
And you are the losers...!!


The Sky Is Crying
      
The sky is crying blood
If it falls from the eyes of children
Gaza tears
What a stupid rubbish
She was buried in it
Verses of beauty, birds of paradise
Lift up
Her eyes are sad though
She laughed
There is light from the Most Gracious
Yeshua
Martyrs and they took an oath
Since childhood
Their concerns are for other than God
And you will not kneel.
They are lemon blossom and olive seedlings
In the land you plant

Silence Of Palestine

Your silence... scares me
Don't you see...
Your silence scares me...
But he will not be defeated at will...
If home calls me
I answer... Here you are
I have an ax in my hand...a pickaxe and a shovel
Book and pen
A white shroud on my shoulders, show the martyrdom...
To my land...I water it
With my sweat... with my blood...
I blame its soil...
I purify myself with it for prayer
The love of the earth is a religion...worship...
My land...if I die
I will be born in it, birth after birth...
And if I live...
I will not be stingy with an increase in life...and an increase...
My breath illuminates the darkness
She crouched down on the rib... suffocating her
On the mountains...blasting them relentlessly
On history... I judged it to be false and repeated...
Maybe I break the silence... strange... suspicious
For him, life and annihilation are equal...


Children's Surgeons Are Calling

On the banks of groans
And the beaches of burning wounds,
A lyre that only opened its mouth to kill.
When I escaped, I rowed
Her soul is a widowed cloud...
Shaking hands with the harshness of her sterile silence,
The noise of children's desires
A revolution that opens the gates of heaven
To transform it into pink butterfly colors
As if it were the text of a poem and a wish
Angels calling...
Postpone taking our souls for a distant tomorrow
Our dreams are stacked behind
The sounds of missiles...!!