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-1-
A chair and an electric heater,
Clothes scattered over the floor
A drawer turned upside down with its intestines dispersed
Plastic bags that has no reason to be
A pile of papers lying around the door; there is never a trash bin when you need one I guess.
-2-
Oh God
Why do I feel choked by my own room?
Ghosts of a distant past appear, and so quick they’re gone
When will dawn emerge, and the “call to prayers” echoes in my heart?
I need to cleanse my sins,
Pray,
And fade away.
-3-
Cold invades my bones..
Not a voice I love I can hear,
.. No home,
No spectrum of “Shamma” to light up my darkness
It has failed me like all others
Just the cold within my bones
And aspirin
-4-
“Alas!
That stranger,
All the time he is cold,
A stranger he is All the time..
Even his own room becomes an exile.”
Amman
3/3/2002
translated by : Fahad almursal
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