by Bilal Hamamra
Published on: Aug 7, 2008
Topic:
Type: Poetry

The coldness of my mind is like the idleness of my father
Who to his offspring matters gives away
Obedience and follow-up of his orders he demands
But I by my defiance to him my chronicle win
Ay, mother, the burning heart of my poetry
You notwithstanding misfortunes befall you
To your kids you still yield more and more hope



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