designed by: M. Aladdin & H. Fathy

Sunday, July 01, 2007

A Masterpeice


They hail me as one living,
But don’t they know
That I have died of late years,
Untombed although ?
I am but a shape that stands here,
A pulseless mould,
A pale past picture, screening
Ashes gone cold.
Not at a minute’s warning,
Not in a loud hour,
For me ceased Time’s enchantments
In hall and bower.
There was no tragic transit,
No catch of breath,
When silent seasons inched me
On to this death. . . .
―A Troubadour-youth I rambled
With Life for lyre,
The beats of being raging
In me like fire.
But when I practiced eyeing
The goal of men,
It iced me, and I perished
A little then.
When passed my friend, my kinsfolk,
Through the Last Door,
And left me standing bleakly,
I died yet more ;
And when my Love’s heart kindled
In hate of me,
Wherefore I knew not, died I
One more degree.
And if when I died fully
I cannot say,
And changed into the corpse-thing
I am today,
Yet is it that, though whiling
The time somehow
In walking, talking, smiling,
I live not now.



Hussien said...

lazeza gedan ya mohamed wa 2tmna 2ne 2kon sadekak :D

Muhammad Aladdin said...

يا سيدي متشكرين و اهلا اهلا!