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Whats that got to do with the constitution ?!

My dear friends did their best to translate my last post from arabic to english , and google failed miserably .. and I must say it is a daunting task to translate the egyptian light hearted dialect into english or even to any other arabic dialect .. I did my best to carry the mood and the sentiment into this translation …

The background to this post is the chaotic pathetic political scene in Egypt nowadays, a shabby referendum on a hastily cooked constitution and a hesitant president who seems to cancel his own decisions as fast as he make them .. Lolo for me is answer to all of this … Tomorrow is hers …

My little Lolo is strict20121224-005559.jpg
in full control
Whatever clouds in her heart
She pours
on her hands
lips and eyes

….

Watch her doing her homework
with fun
Whether the paper is blank or full
straight or crumbled
the homework gets done

….

She writes on lines in her heart
Somehow looks tilted to my careless eyes
Yet perfectly aligned
like the pyramid
in hers

….

Thats her opinion, a verdict passed
On me and the school
Thats my homework, done
Once and for all
and daddy , by the way
tomorrow it will be forgotten
and lost

….

She always sticks that sun of hers
In every drawing
Morning be it or night
called for it or not
There it is
at the upper left corner
Just above the heart
Her warming sun

….

Oh my wicked Lolo
Even in drawing
You grab the truth
by the neck

….

Mr President
Lolo is a princess
in her lines
and sultana
Precise and diminutive
Sometimes frizzly and proud
Her letters remain engraved
and in control

….

She doesn’t care
What you carve
She doesn’t give a damn
About your attorney general
Your declaration or
Constitution

….

Tomorrow is hers not yours
She will scribble it by her tiny hand
Not on your perfect lines
no submission
In this heart

….

in her latest drawing
She wrote
….I love
Words in your world
Missing on intent ,accused and guilt

….

But for Lolo thats
Her dream
Love for her is for all
And tomorrow for her
All drawn
scrambled
Grabbled
Scribbled
But hers ..

….

Let the boys rule
By the ball
By the boyish fights
And the laughs that follows

Let the girls reminds us
Of the butterflies
Of the love
Pure like the dawn

TarekOfCairo

ايه اللي جاب الدستور هنا ؟

20121221-140016.jpg

البنت بنتي لولو

مسيطرة
اللي في قلبها على لسانها
وفي ايديها وفي عنيها وملو فُمها

ولو شفتها وهي بتعمل واجب المدرسة
تلاقيها تنجز لا يهمها الورقة مليانه
فاضية، مفروده، ولا مكرمشة

هتكتب هتكتب على سطور في قلبها

مايلة في عنيا بميزاني

تحفة زي الهرم موزونة عندها

دا رأيها

ونافذ … عليا وعلى المدرسة
ودا الواجب خلاص خلصته
ومش هيتعاد تاني ..
وبكره يابابا واجبكم ها يتنسى

ولولو غاوية تلطع شمس في كل رسمه
صباح كانت ولا مسا
بمناسبة ومن غير مناسبة
في الركن الشمال فوق القلب بشوية
لازم في كل ورقة شمسها الدافية

آه يابنت الايه يا لولو
حتي في الرسم وخداها بالعافية
ياريس لولو في خطوطها اميرة
ومتسلطنة
وحروفهااللي منقوشة منمنمة كده
ومنفوشة ومتعنطزة
وفي الحقيقة معلمة ومسيطرة

ولا علي بالها النحت اللي بتنحتوه
لا يهمها نايب ولا اعلان ولا الدستور
هو بُكره بُكرها بتخُطه بالمنكوش
لا هتمشي علي سطركم
ولا هايهمها حكمكم
وفي قلبها مافيش أمر ولا جبر ولا مأمور ..

في آخر رسمة لولو كتبت
I love
وكام نقطة بعدها
وف عرفكم الجملة كدا ناقصة
نية وتربية ومتهم وذنوب

لكنه دا حِلمها
و الحب في قلبها للكل مقدور
بكرة خلاص لولو
راسماه معفرت ملخبط مشخبط
بس بخط إيدها مكتوب

سيبوا العيال تُحكمنا

بالكورة والزعلة
والضحكة بعد العركة
سيبوا البنات تفكرنا
بالفراشة والزهرة
بالحب زي الفجر
عالفطرة ..

TarekOfCairo

العنوان من اختيار لولو … وانا بقرأ لها فجأة وقفتنا وقلتلي ” هوا ايه اللي جاب الدستور هنا؟” … وعجبي

Egypt’s days of shame

The colour of blood

Is all red …

Spilled screaming

on our dawn

….

The flesh of burnt pride

Is all the same

Like the smell of hate

We both exhale

….

The chasm of void

Between us deeper

Than my stupidity

and your cruelty

….

your fingers hold mine

On the same knife

that stabbed us

into the same fate

….

Just as we were tortured

In the same jail that wore our graffiti

not so long, remember

if you dare

….

If we survived today

we will lie flat black eyed

Stretched on the cold asphalt

Facing the same blue sky

….

And if we die

We will hug each other

Stacked in the same grave

Peacefully gone ,

….

If love fails to unite us

today, Like every other day

In the history of shame

We are wastefully done

Just the same ..

….

TarekOfCairo

Truth

I wonder sometimes

what I saw was real unfeigned

Or rainfall in June

Tarekofcairo

The jungle .. الغابة

The beautiful photo is courtsey of my friend Robyn L.

سامقة اشجارها

تحيطني سيقانها

فكأني سجين غابة وارفة

أحس بحرِّها رغم زحامها

فأعجب كيف وأين ظلالها

فأمد بصري لعليائها

الي أذرع ملساء متنافره

من لهيب الشمس

تسن سنانها

الي عدو قد يكون انا ها هنا

فأعدوا في خلوها وخلائها

فلا انس في سكنها

ولا ظل يبدوا الا في بطنها

A wood like all

Imprisoned

Between the long legs

and the fallen stems

crack under my feet

The heat I feel

Makes me wonder

Shouldn’t there be

Plenty of shade

Eyes climb the trees

To the pointy bare beaming arms

Praying to the searing sun heat

Sharpening there teeth

Could that be , for me ..

Shocked I flee

As it came to me

The only shade here

Is down the soil

Deep under the trees

TarekOfCairo

The River of light ..

Through the banks of ..

.. sombre night

Revelations , vision and love

Sail in the torrential river of light

The River of light

Painting with light

Islamic Cairo

Islamic Cairo

Islamic Cairo

 

Islamic Cairo

Al-Sehemy House , Cairo

Cairo, the city of light and shade

Islamic Cairo

Quanta laden light gust

thousands light years ahead ..

From the creative core of the infinite sole

Waves beyond waves of lavish lust .

 

Glorious brush in the delicate grip

religiously tracing a carved frame

and gently weaving a Cairene grace

of light, highlight, and a sepian shade.

 

At noon .. all noons, a faintly glow

Grows to a silky throw ,

and warm vibrant strokes

at sunset …wears spicy tangy hues .

 

Cairo, the city of light and shade

Painted, permeated, bathed

From birth to dark to dawn, a fairy tale

of the  century old.. love affair…

 

 

TarekOfCairo

 

The Death cycle or the untagged corpse …

 

Crawling down the habitual

stairs -he knew-

to the occupancy of

the coffin he had before

 

Wrapping the white cloth

reminiscence of of

a day , in heaven

he was unwrapped ashore

 

Next to the ancient scars

yet again, fresh

 wound in the old corpse

Full of blood and gore ..

 

Laid on his right side ..

Facing the Qibla ,

Curled like a question mark

In the ground ground floor ..

 

Looking up to a light

Shimmering above …

Wondering …

God ..  Not again

 

TarekOfCairo

AlAzhar Mosque 970

 

Photos from Al-Azhar Mosque and complex which includes the second oldest continuously run university in the world.

 

A bird in Al-Azhar Mosque

Al-Azhar Mosque 970