Elegy Of The Living - By: Majed Dodeen Poem by Majed Dodeen

*************************************
Allah is He Who created you in (a state of) weakness, then gave you strength after weakness, then after strength gave (you) weakness and grey hair. He creates what He wills. And it is He Who is the All-Knowing, the All-Powerful (i.e. Able to do all things) .
********************************************************
ELEGY OF THE LIVING - By: Majed Dodeen
********************************************************
Inside the fence of deprivation,
My grandfather sat contemplating,
Gazing at the unknown,
Recalling and remembering,
Tapes and records of past memories,
But he does not remember anything
The tapes of his life are running & turning
But without voices and pictures; as if he was born today
He only sees shades & shadows
His life is a strange cycle made up of darkness
Is brainwashing a fetus aborted over days?
Isn't life but a miniature image of a field implanted with mines?
My grandfather realized that the sun of his life is approaching sunset
Moments only and it disappears beyond the horizon
Leaving a beautiful cloud of twilight
He began uttering hymns of a tragic elegy:
'Tomorrow I'll pass away,
Tomorrow the angel of death will shake me,
Tomorrow the light will depart my candle
I'll come to my end
And my journey in life will be terminated
Tomorrow my grave will be full of worms
After an hour, silence prevails
After a blow at the trumpet, I will be resurrected
"And the Trumpet will be blown, and all who are in the heavens and all who are on the earth will swoon away, except him whom Allah wills"
[Quran 39: 68]
Man will be shown all his deeds
Whether good or bad ones
Will know if he deserves to dwell in paradise
Or - God forbid-thrown in hellfire forever.
Warm tears began flowing and pouring
From the see of my grandfather's eyes
Tears rolled down making their way with difficulty through the wrinkles made by time on his face
His face resembles much the map of my country
I wonder! Does life cycle repeat itself to enter from the gate of the past?
Does love seep and ooze topsy-turvy as the Orontes River does?
Does a thorn become dianthus or carnations?
As an orange has become a bomb in our groves
Would a tear laugh happily?
And would a smile cry bitterly?
Do I love everything and hate nothing in you?
These are questions that I'll compose a melody to sing them
I will carry the image of my country with me 6-feet under to keep staring at it forever