|
|
 Re: هناك أزهر وأشعر أزهري شموخا وجسارة! (Re: wadalzain)
|
أعيد تشر ترجمتي لقصيدة القيادة العامة
كنت قد تشرتها في المنبر قبل فترة من الزمن
عشان تقريها لأولادك الأمريكات يا هشام
To the army general command street, we came
From the different expanses and spreads
We sprang off the ground
like the day of judgment parades
Our parades didn’t litter away
It augments our number
And boosts our splendor
As we do to it
When taking inventory of your deeds,
That day, question thee blaming self
Be aware: the blockading is a shield
And the Yamama walking trees
Has its eye on the bread
And you and your folks are orphans
The mariners are far away
And the big river is a whirlpool
Tell Hussien overthere in Alsharafa
Thank God, we arrived safely
It looks like Arafat Day
And the people living their day there
Are chanting the slogan: peaceful
Raising hands with the sign;
They are two percent at most
And the rest we are going to complete with compassion
Will you be patient a little
And if patience ends, we ascend
Over all the open wounds.
The scorching fire
Doesn’t know the word ohhh
And the chat which begets admonition,
The life we waste celebrating--
A waste in a ridicule complaint--,
We are not going to ask compensation for
Nor we are going to ask for reparation
We vowed on sacrifice
And we agreed on love and dignity
Like a flock of doves we ascended
when the predicament fell,
we just hoped for the best and stayed
at the poisonous snakes’ hole.
What is the taste of the army general command
after we were gone ؟؟
What is the meaning of the tall buildings
at the fenced castle
We thought there are braves behind it
It is engraved in folks’ memory
A mole in battles’ chest
To hell with its hired doshka
Eats from its permissible, its prohibited
While our sons are dying in front of it,
What a shame the Army General Command.
One O’clock is the time of ####morphosis
It is the time when revolution ascent on date’s pyramid
A women chant and the street rises
And epics start with a woman’s chant
Where do we start the narrations
O our useful abridged letter
Weathered away the word’s clout
Weathered away gatherings
O our spilled blood on the Eid’s eve
We meet on the shimmer of promises
And the meanings residing eternally in a poem phrase,
Drums beats and verses humming
For the emerging droves of boys
A martyr following a martyr
O blood fall, greetings
When we die, our numbers increase
And who dies for his country, is not dead
He will be reborn
We came from the womb of bravery,
From outside came the mediators
We focused on the country,
They put hot rod on our wound
Then came Kalaklat hand on hand
And Burry, Shambat, Elmaseed and Omdur
And the droves coming from the iron bridge
You trick, but the people do what they want
Long live the struggle
As it should be
And down with the Janjaweed brigades
| |
 
|
|
|
|
هشام هباني
Osman Musa
wadalzain
Nasr
فيس بوك
تويتر
انستقرام
يوتيوب
بنتيريست