بسم الله الرحمن الرحيم
إليكم قصيدتي
نداء مع القدر
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في سكون الليل تتوارد الرؤى
و تتكشف رويدا حقائق الحادثات
و يدور حوار مع النفس وتأملات
أتسائل عما حل بالوجود وجرى
و بمواطن كان التغني لها بالانتصارات
في تراتيل أطفال وأشبال و زهرات
بمدارس وصفوف عن تاريخ بطولات
والكل يزهو بأرض الأجداد والخيرات
وبطولات سطرت و شغلت صفحات
في مدرستي كانت شعارات ورسومات
على أسوار و جدران ولوحات وقاعات
نموت نموت ويحيا الوطن في هتافات
و كلنا فداء للوطن وإعلام وخطابات
ثم أتت علينا لحظات ثقال فارقات
لم يستوعب العقل هوان لرجالات!
وشعوب خبا صوتها و هزلت كما الأموات!
وأضحت فريسة لغربان وبوم غازيات
لم يشفع لها تاريخ و أمجاد وثروات
أو سلام رفرفت له الأعلام و فتوحات
وخطب صدعت الرؤوس ومقالات
سنعمر ونزرع الأشجار ونشق القنوات
سنغرس زيتونا و فاكهة تجري لها خلجان
سنزرغ ونصنع ونشغل شبان وشبات
لكن بدت أحلامنا سرابا وتبددت الأمنيات
وقتل أطفال ونساء وشيوخ فسالت دماء
فروت الأرض وتكدست المقابر بالأموات
و اسودت الأجواء و بكت السموات
وحزنت الطبيعة و توارى القمر خلف سحابات
و خجلت الغيوم وضنت بأمطار صائبات
كما احمرت الشمس وأحرقت المزروعات
و اسودت الحياة والليالي شاهدات
واستبيحت الحرمات وضاعت المقدرات
هزات أرضية تنذر بخراب ودمار آت
أهو غضب من خالق الأرض والسموات ؟
أ لهذا المنحدر قد اتى بنا القدر والحادثات ؟
In the name of God, the Most Gracious, the Most Merciful
Here is my poem
A Call with Fate
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In the stillness of the night, visions come and go
And the truths of events are slowly revealed
And a dialogue with the soul and reflections take place
I wonder what happened to existence and what happened
And to the citizens who were sung about victories
In the hymns of children, cubs, and flowers
In schools and classes about the history of heroism
And everyone takes pride in the land of ancestors and goodness
And heroisms were written and filled pages
In my school, there were slogans and drawings
On walls and walls and billboards and halls
We die, we die, and the homeland lives in chants
And we are all ready to sacrifice for the homeland, and in media and speeches
Then came heavy, decisive moments
The mind could not comprehend the humiliation of men!
And peoples whose voices faded and emaciated like the dead!
And it became prey to invading crows and owls. It was not helped by history, glories, or wealth. It was not helped by a peace whose flags fluttered, nor by conquests. It was not helped by speeches that split heads, nor by articles that said, "We will develop, plant trees, and dig canals." It will plant olives and fruits whose gulfs flow. It will cultivate, cultivate, and employ young men and women. But our dreams seemed like a mirage, and hopes were shattered. Children, women, and the elderly were killed, and blood was shed. The earth was parched, and the graves were piled with the dead. The atmosphere turned black, and the heavens wept. Nature grieved, and the moon was hidden behind clouds. The clouds were ashamed and withheld abundant rain. The sun turned red, scorching the crops. Life turned black, and the nights bore witness. Sanctities were violated, and resources were lost. Earthquakes heralded imminent destruction and devastation. Is this the wrath of the Creator of the earth and the heavens? Did fate and accidents bring us to this slope?
In the name of God, the Most Gracious, the Most Merciful
Here is my poem
A Call with Fat
By
The Writer and the poet.Dr. Zain Alaabdeen Fathallah.
للكاتب والشاعر د. زين العابدين فتح الله
