Liberté, by Mohamed Sahafi

L’aube

chante,

dans la vallée fertile des fleurs,

le réveil

de la liberté.

حرية

ترجمة رضوان أفندي

الفجر

يغني ،

في وادي الأزهار الخصيب ،

صحوة

الحرية.

Freedom,  translated by Abdel-Ilah Sahafi

The dawn

sings,

in the fertile valley of flowers,

the reawakening

of freedom.

Stolen, by Mohamed Sahafi

They had stolen
All
Your
Fundamental rights
And
They want you
To give them
Flowers.

..

Traducción Mohamed Khattabi:

Han robado
Todos tus
Derechos básicos
y quieren
que les regales
Flores

..

ترجمة : عبدالإله صحافي

سرقوا
كل
حقوقك الأساسية
و
يريدونك
أن تُقَدَّم لهم
الأزهار.

Poetry, By Mohamed Sahafi

Poetry
Is not
A public relations agency
Which paints

The hooves of lie.

..

Poetry
Is
A constant search
In the field
Of flowers and mines.

..

It is cry
In the mountain
Of the rips
Sun of love
In the azure
Of the emeralds
It is
The mirror of the mirrors.

Dreams By Mohamed Sahafi

Dream
From here
To Infinity
Flames
Of this rapture
No end
Who cradled
By his music
Earth,
Water
And the sky
From our hearts
Entwined
Below
Of the spell
Heightened
Symphonies
And above
Duvet
Alarm
Clock
Magic
From our flight..

Nightmare by Mohamed Sahafi

It is

A nightmare.

They dream

To build

A new house

With

Fire

And

water.

To Ashraf Fayad, the Palestinian poet by Mohamed Sahafi

The tears
of the sad violin
wash the hearts
of the damned
who are
exhausted
by the infernal machines
of the despotism.

They fall
drop by drop
as an acid
on the marrow
of those plaster statues
which fear
to see
their nudity
to see
what they are
between
the turning mirrors
of the Art.

Lorca is alive
Because
No one
Can kill
The flowers of the eternity.