By Charbel Baini
Translated By Mirna Nehme

My eyes tired of emigration craziness
And talk withered early
Maybe time closed in my face the door
Maybe destiny throwing on my shoulders 
A yoke
My age years wandered like a drain water 
Swallowed by a well
And the well is a small urn 
Next to it a pen and a book
I do not have the energy 
To overcome the waiting
I hear the horse's neigh 
Coming like a memory
It passes on the night's face 
To erase tomorrow
Tired walking and worries so heavy
And the wind is messing my years
The illusion made me almost a man
Worried my head is and I am fed up
No country calling me and no babies
No elbows embracing me warming me
I am living on my own
A load on my back
From my isolation oh God spare me.

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