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My Work - PoetryWithout a Nest at Eighty(To my Father on his 80th birthday)He who loves, ‘tis said, knows no real wretchedness, And your heart overflows with love. You have imbibed the wine Of poetry and music, Knocking with never-ceasing thrist Upon the doors of knowledge. Ask poetry Who was he who beamed its rays On to the spell-bound shores To save the drowning? Who was he who burned the sleepless candle, Watching the far horizon Until the break of dawn? And who was he who cried “Where is the nest? Is there a way to embrace the plumage of the nightingale Fighting its path throught flash and thunderstom?” And who was he who plucked The poetry of Sanaa’s songs To form a fragrant garland? Ask music Who created brides for music with his words To charm a bird upon the wing? Ask knowledge Who was he who sixty years ago Brought honour to his native land, The first of graduates from the Arabian Peninsula? The years between, as guide and mentor to all those Who knowledge sought, both north and south, Teaching and building minds to love and honour unity Today, dear father,you have reached Full four score years. And in that time you’ve borne, courageously, Man’s gross ingratitude to man. And you’ve withheld complaint, Unlike Zuhair *, who once bewailed his life. Your metal’s made from purer ore, E’en though he gained all dues From those his fellow men, Whilst your own nest was torn away from you. Your life has been a lighthouse From which such knowledge shone, And many sons grew up beneath that beam, Poets, doctors, men of science, more; Your home a nest for intellectual thought - And now? A playground for a pack of fools, Your home, built from the years of scholarly toil. Now traitors and unprincipled men Roam that unhappy land, Robbing, unchecked, your soil, devouring with wolves the sheep, Yet pretending to help the shepherd when a shot is heard Oh! How many an opportunist heading westwards Was earlier to Gorbachev rushing towards the east. * Zuhair Bin Abi Sulma was one of the seven great pre-Islamic poets of the Muallaqat (poems hung in the Kaba in Mecca) Dubai, 1992 |
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