Commemorating the poet Zaghloul Al-Damour at Dr. Bahia Abou Hamad's salon
As long as you are the meter
And the most sublime poetry
No, I will not be satisfied with impromptu speech
Our Zaghloul... no creator like you has come
You sang poetry that eternity may sing
How many poets have come
And we paid them no heed
No sooner had they spoken
Than they yawned or faded away
No sooner had they spoken
Than our ears grew weary
And poetry itself tasted shame from their verses
Except you, O star of the night and the darkness
We listen to you for a lifetime,
Fearing no weariness
Our Damour, our Lebanon, our shores
Weep for the bitter departure,
O pride of the mountain
Sydney, if you console her, O "Hashemi"
She complains of the groaning of the other...
Tell me, what is to be done?
Here are the companions of the path,
The friends of Loyalty
They shower the coffin with thousands of kisses
Rise and bid farewell to your companions,
This is their gathering
At "Al-Bahia," their poetry
Is the tears of their eyes
A painful sorrow... if you heard their moans
You would weep like a child
From the overflowing grief
If you ask the cedars about their sparrow
They will point to the young one
So, the partridge may listen
A whistle, if it whistles, delights
To steal ears, or to give honey
For the voice is a wonderful, inspired voice
And the poetry is like pearls in the sea of hope
We love you... if we were asked once
We would answer without thinking: Yes
We love you, a shining poet
And love among the absent is without deceit
We love you, do not ask, my poet
Since we met, it has circled in the air Love Poetry
Joseph, tell me, how does death come to you?
And glory is you... and you are the young poet of folk songs.
**
