Aborted Memories
Looking at them carefully
Makes me grow sea sick
but I try to calm my soul
and spirit with songs and hymns
Of Love and Freedom gone.
The cold streets of the city
And the arising fears I see
In the faces of my people
Cannot but dispel those of mine.
Where are the sweet tales told
Down to us from father to son ?
Where are the woods gathered
To withstand the cold weather
To make it depart for warmth and sun ?
I hope this is enough for division
I hope this is enough for admonition
Looking at them looking at me now
Makes me aimlessly wander and smile
What I continue to keep in my heart
They did forget and they only
come and go and wonder none.
Chokri Omri
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