We Keep Looking For That Pretty Peace Endlessly. Poem by MOHAMMAD SKATI

The art of shaking hands
Is no more
With each others,
The art of loving of
Each others
Disappears step-by-step,
The art of helping
Is no more
With each others,
The pretty words, which
We used to communicate
With each others,
Have evaporated from
Our daily dictionaries,
The fairy tales and
The lovely stories
Which we used to hear
From our grandparents
Are no more at all,
The "Thank you" which
We used to utter it
When anyone offers us
Some kinds of help
Is greatly no more,
We do not know exactly
To which planet we belong,
What has happened to us?
We have changed ourselves
Absolutely from what is bad
Into the worst,
We frankly do not belong to
Our current planet at all,
We are merely figures who look only for
Our painful solitude away from
What we used to be,
Alas! What a pity!
Corona keeps occupying
Our pretty planet
While we all keep looking for
Selfish survival away from
Those whom we used to be with,
If we do not fix`ourselves,
It means we are going to be
In the tunnel of darkness
Which we have drawn to ourselves.