Every year
When spring comes
The horses of sorrow
Race towards my meadow
They eat the fresh grass
With dew that trickles down
They bathe in my brook that is pure as tears
Drink its sweet water to their fill
They gaily smudge it
And run across my meadow
To spend the night in my farm, content
Every year
The birds of sadness flock to my gardens, ferocious
They pick at my heart, happily devouring its flesh
They perch on the sill of my eyes, slowly eating
Enjoying the morning sun
Lazily spreading their wings
And fly away, taking my wounded heart
To complete the murder in their nest
Every year
Dreams are shattered inside me
When I sit in the shade of a willow
Watching my face on the mirror of the river
How sad it looks!
Every year
I see a new line on my forehead, under my eyes
Telling me about a lost youth
I lose my dreams like I lose my hair
And gradually I wrap them with old memories
Every year
When I carry bread and oranges
To visit my father's tomb, downhearted
I try to speak, but tears choke me
For seven nights, he was speechless
The last word he had said to my mother
Looking into her eyes, yet unable to see:
'Stay with me!'
And she stayed with him
until he woke from the slumber of life
When a leg embraced a leg
And there was the coffin, and he was buried
From everywhere, sobbing friends attended
He was a spirit floating over the funeral
Asking where is my son in this crowd?
Will he come? When?
But I was in the land of dreams
Collecting stars from the heart of the nights
Fishing pearls from the depths of the oceans
And they are the same stars that burned me
And the same oceans that drowned me
When I thought I had reached the shore of safety
Every year
At the tomb of my father
I read the Opening Chapter of the Qur'an
I pray for him, wishing him an ample paradise
And I leave, returning to the crowd
With a wounded heart!
