Slaughtered lame groans

Who found you in my land
a lie ?
Who wears the sedition of questions?
And raised you up in a storm
I made an appointment
You brush my eyelids
The burdened one
My pink baby
How equal your face and the sun
O sin of others?
When you roar in their silence
And reveal the fangs of their virtue
You knock tears in my streets
You climb my calm
Lightly resourceful, ambitious
Dress up the wound
To reach the maximum pain in you
Your flutes cut her veins
You’re tearing up
You keep my mark
May he give you lameness
Slaughtered groans
Above all..i love you
over all societies
And above all the ridiculous traditions that bind us
I love you after my life..above those dreams
And candles lit at night lovers




Muhammed Gaddafi Massoud
Translated by Hayam Alama
“The Sad Musician”
By ostahi mihai






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