Poem of Childhood Lament and Zero Account
- As expressed by poet Qamar Sabri Al-Jassim:
When we were young,
We raced every butterfly, chasing the winds,
With a paper plane of hope,
Reigning over our dreams…
In those youthful days,
We embraced life and played….
Those who lied had to leave us,
And the truest among us became heroes.
We filled our hearts with sunshine,
Attended the flowers’ wedding,
And sipped from a bottle of sweet honey.
When our grandmothers’ stories
Poured forth like a fountain upon us,
And our thirst was never quenched…
How we used to save a little money
For “Sally,”
For “Remy,” with tears,
And mourned for
“Heidi and Bill.”
The hearts of the young were vast,
And the colors of the gardens were brighter,
Not like we claim now.
Whenever our teacher passed by the mirror,
We feared,
Not hiding our lessons from him.
He would send a little bird to see us,
No matter how long we stayed awake.
And we’d feel ashamed if we didn’t sleep early…
Everything called out to us,
“Be like this.”
Our teacher was a reference for life,
A sanctuary of civilizations,
When he asked us to speak, we would sing,
If he told us to rise… we stood.
If he invited us to his lesson, we would jump.
When we were young,
That was from a thousand generations past…
The lesson in mathematics about zero,
We searched for the finger of zero in vain,
Until he said:
“It is like nothingness,
A basket that is empty.
But zero in multiplication is like premeditated murder;
When we add or subtract it,
Like Hassan,
Who never understood the lesson, no matter how I explained,
And no matter how hard I tried,
He lingered behind the desks, never counted.
We are the zero…
I told our teacher this just yesterday;
He replied: “Oh, if only we could… “
Beautiful Poems About Childhood
- From the poem “Anthem of Innocence” by poet Saber Younis:
“Kareem,” O anthem of innocence,
O voice of the radiant season,
O fragrance of the beautiful heartbeat of childhood,
O pulse of two hearts that embraced,
And sang with life,
Weaving from the sweet essence dreams of gentle days.
And you, the sun that rose,
In our winter nights, O Kareem,
Warming our shivering days,
And hanging a lamp of safety in our hearts,
Filling our souls with flocks of light and tenderness.
Will you bestow, O Kareem, your grace…??
Will your joyful star shine
In our new year??
Will your bright face illuminate our days??
Will the smile of life in your eyes restore our dreams??
And about our time drowned in smoke,
Will the clouds and sorrows depart??
Will you, O Kareem, bring forth the smile of the migratory songbirds on our faces??
And will the fields return to…
The green of life and the traveling hands??
Will the songs echo in the harbors…
In the beaks of the chased seagulls??
Will the waves embrace the shores…
Washing the foam of travel…
Will you bestow, O Kareem, your grace?
Upon our time, captive in the corridors of void,
Our dream shattered and scattered stars dissipated??
And its pages burned in trails of travel and defiance,
While its days sailed…
In the ears of stolen time.
- Poem “The Time of Childhood” by poet Susan Aliwan:
To my father,
Take me,
By my little hand,
To your city,
Just as sorrow used to take me
To my school.
Return me
To my braid,
To my sad brown pony,
Return me
To my old photo,
In my mirror.
Take me
Where children
Have colorful hearts,
And wooden horses
Have wings.
Return me.
Poems That Remind Us of Childhood Days
- From the poem “Childhood” by poet Karim Matouk:
Those were the stories of my grandfather,
And the tobacco tin, like a coffin for the fire,
His hand extended shyly, like a virgin when,
She met a stranger along the way.
She trembled in her steps,
The heavens constricted around her,
It was only him on this path.
It was only him if his steps drew close.
My grandfather, with trembling hands, withdrew the tin,
His hands shaking,
You could see yesterday in his eyes staying free.
Choked with smoke from excessive sorrow,
And in his eyes, the sparkle was turning green.
He reached back to the past, enfolding it,
My grandfather watched the smoke,
Like the one who lost his dignity,
His description of that day
Was a fateful description of fate.
I still struggle to find meaning
For yesterday’s impression in every conversation.
Facial expressions reflected on all faces,
And in all interpretations, an imprint.
I still keep some of the conversations from our neighbor,
About intimacy, its echo persists.
After the age of a hundred plus twenty-two, you shrank,
And the grave turned into the size of prayer rugs.
Oh, our neighbor, older than our days,
And oh, our neighbor, smaller than our bodies in size,
And oh, the secret of life,
How we’ve shared nights as a guide,
Walking by lantern light without a care.
We tore through the patch of night,
And when we returned, the night was whole again,
With no trace left,
Other than whispers of our footsteps,
That passed moments ago,
When the light passed through,
And we rolled up the path with laughter like you fold,
Rugs from the roof when winter comes.
We arrived at Fatoum’s house, where there was mourning
For her son Ahmad drowned in the sea,
And the weeping was on the rise with every entrance,
And you turned over on the lap of the women,
Wiping the tears from one eye while embracing another,
And I questioned about sorrow, for you were with me
A moment ago laughing.
At the time, I was nine years old,
And intimacy spoke among people, and I grew,
You will see intimacy as light and faith.
I have grown now,
I am certain of what people lost of love,
So certainty has tortured me.
Oh, our neighbor, older than our days,
And oh, our neighbor, smaller than our bodies in size,
Oh, sea of nostalgia,
Oh, if you could return to us now,
What would you do?
- Poem “The Lantern of Childhood” by poet Ahmad Mufqi:
I have stolen the pearl of childhood
From the pain of forgetting, testing
Your plaits over coral
In my memory..!
Yet I ended up back to you
In the aromatic gardens,
I reclaim you in wildness,
And in mirrors…
O you candle, rich and luminous,
O you string of the bow, poised in the gleam of the eye,
In the lantern, take my hand to embrace,
And wander in its expanse,
O you rain that has poured over land,
A thread for life…
Will it ignite the sparkle
On its way,
So that I may long for her
Or see her…
Sweetest Poems from Mother to Son
- As recited by poet Nazik Al-Malaika:
Mama, mama, mama, mama, mama!
Bright and sweet, not a sound, ready for sleep;
And sleep beyond the hill has prepared a dream,
And the dream has wings that soar to the stars.
And the star has lips and loves kisses,
And the kiss will awaken my child.
Mama, mama.
Baba, baba, baba, baba, baba!
Bright, the sleeping one absent, stealing a heart,
And the heart will blossom, sprouting fresh blooms.
And the flowers spray the cradle with sweet fragrance,
And the scent of flowers is playful, yearning to leap,
And the leap will awaken my child.
Baba, baba.
Dada, dada, dada, dada, dada!
The field is tempting for the lush green that won’t rest,
And the greenery is empty, lacking blossoms,
And the flowers tremble at the redness they’ve found.
And the redness, for my little one, shows on their cheek.
And the flower will awaken my child:
Dada, dada.