الثلاثاء، 23 نوفمبر 2010

The Martyr

The Martyr
By the martyr poet: Abdul Rahim Mahmoud

Translated by: Adib  S. Kawar

My soul I shall carry on my palm  
and throw it into the valley of death

For it is either a life that pleases a friend    
or a death that the enemy it shall infuriate

Two aims the nobleman's soul has   
Approaching fate and reaching destiny

What is life for if dreaded not is    
my presence, and inviolability is my fame

If I speak the world listens    
and my speech's echo resounding it is

My martyrdom I see coming  
but towards it my pace I mend

The rattling of swords my ear enjoys  
and the spilling of my blood shall thrill my soul

Over the hills his body is braided   
And the sky's predators skirmish on  

A share for lions of the sky there is   
and a share for the cats of evil

 With purple his blood the soil it attired  
and the wind of youth it perfumed 

Soiled the charm of the forehead it did 
 but a soiling is that beauty it increases

On his lips a smile showed   
meaning ridicule for this world it is

Dreamt  of eternal life and slept to dream  
it to enjoy the best of perceives


I seek death rather then lose my rights   
and my country it is the goal

Men's death that is what it is for   
and who wants a noble death this is what it is

Fear I don't… and for me life is cheap in disgrace
when the symbol of disdain is that what I am

With my heart the face of the enemy I shall slap
for my heart is steel and my fire inflames

My homeland with the edge of the sword I shall protect     
and my people shall know I am the man for it

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