Despair and Hope : a song from the land of injustice

When right is not a right
without the swords of might
where to will go our way
when shall we see the day

When truth just can't be heard
where freedom's just a word
we can sigh-we can cry
and watch our lives pass by

The darkness of our night
holds truer than the light
our life can't hold a sway
our life offers no way

Let's shun both light and night
hold on to what is right
our shame and our dismay
"this day be gone away!"

When once were flock and herd
now'll go where few have dared
our thoughts-long oh so dry
with eagles' wings shall fly

This twilight rise and fight
the coming of the night
this day we'll fight and pray
and life will hold a sway

By Comte Almaviva 

علاقات عابرة

سرقت مني الحلم
واستبدلته بلا شيئا
فاستكثرت علي العدم
إن لم يكن له عبئا

"اعطني ذكراي
فما لك أن تبقيها
وإحتفظ بالندم

وانس كم كانت خطاي
فما لك أن تحصيها
ولك أن تبقي الألم"



"لا لست ذكرى لآلامي
لا لست شقاءً لأحلامي
فما تبقى من الندم
وما تبقى من إثم
ومن أثرٍ للالم
أخرجته من الحلم
فعاد إلى أوهامي:


ذاكرة للقلم
"

By Comte Almaviva

Poetry- Atlas the bearer of the earth.

Me:

“Atlas!
Atlas!

Why do you bear
The weight of the earth?
Let me be your heir
Let go of your bane
Your freedom go regain:
The laughter and the mirth!”

Atlas:

“Why do you want my load?
Can’t you see my plight?”

Me:

“My heart is heavy
With the sorrow of the world
Yet my hands are idle
Why should they not share
The burden of my heart?


Atlas:

“And what burdens you soul,
That you’d want my accursed role?”

Me:

“Every human lie
Every human sigh
Every child’s cry
Injustice in my land
The cruelty of the hand
That kills without shame
The loss of mercy
From all the hearts
The twilight of humanity’s flame”


Atlas:

“Be gone!
Be you early! Be you late
You’re not ready
To carry the weight

I don’t hear the cries
I don’t hear the sighs
I don’t hear the lies
As long as you can grieve
You can’t bear my weight
Least of all my fate
That broken hearts should come
Ask for my accursed load
Listen to my words
--Then Leave!

By Comte Almaviva

In memory of Qana

When the whole world
waits for you to die
don't go searching for your dreams
Where metaphor's  lost its wings
how high can they fly?

What are you looking for?
A friend? A stranger? A lover?
A shoulder on which to sigh?

This is no time for tears
Six thousand miles away
where beasts of war are howling
your mother can hear you cry

She tells you nothing is wrong
the spirits are high-the hearts are strong
but six thousand miles away
she can hear the song
They don't want her grief
nor to see her cry
they just want her to die

When the whole world
waits for you to die
know that people have a heart
their conscience is not dry
it's just not yours to try

Why do you tax their souls?
They did not kill your dead
all they did was close
their eyes and hearts instead

Why do you still bleed?
Can't you understand?
Gentle souls don't weep
Should they lose their sleep
for your children's blood?
Remember that your children
are of a lesser God

By Comte Almaviva