Beyrouth, Beyrouth

As I stand in the flashing city lights,
I feel the earth move under my feet.
This is my home,
My beautiful home.
As the world stumbles upon
the horrors they see on TV,
I stand still, 
My home, 
My beautiful home. 
I whisper to myself,
Everything will be alright,
I whisper to you,
Like a mother singing a lullaby;
Beyrouth,
My dearest Beyrouth,
One day. 
One day, you'll see your wonders,
One day, your children will be here
One Day, they'll come back,
For you.
Beyrouth, Beyrouth,
You old soul,
You beautiful mind,
Stand still.
We are here.

Genwa

and here are some small poems on the theme. Written by unknown talents.

glass can

Oct 13, 2014

do not fall in love with a boy from Lebanon

You can spend years, tears, and fights in unmatched white sheets of your dreams. Or rattle in an train to Istanbul, under their arm.

His curls smell like sweat and he tastes like sweet, touched with hair and a scruff of a beard. He mingles Arabic, English, and French and you feel obsolete.

But do not fall in love with a boy from Lebanon
because sooner or later he will be gone.

Ghenwa

Mar 22, 2014

Beyrouth, Beyrouth

As I stand in the flashing city lights,
I feel the earth move under my feet.
This is my home,
My beautiful home.
As the world stumbles upon
the horrors they see on TV,
I stand still,
My home,
My beautiful home.
I whisper to myself,
Everything will be alright,
I whisper to you,
Like a mother singing a lullaby;
Beyrouth,
My dearest Beyrouth,
One day.
One day, you'll see your wonders,
One day, your children will be here
One Day, they'll come back,
For you.
Beyrouth, Beyrouth,
You old soul,
You beautiful mind,
Stand still.
We are here.

as i see the horrors on TV, i have realised that we never show Beyrouth as the beautiful town it is but as the horrible things that have been done there. I wander endlessly in this city and could spend every second of my life there.

Ya 3araby - a beautiful arabic poem

The Soul Cries - Al Nafsu Tabki - Imam Ali Poem [Arabic] النفس تبكي

A Lover's Call Xxvii - Poem by Khalil Gibran



Where are you, my beloved? Are you in that little
Paradise, watering the flowers who look upon you
As infants look upon the breast of their mothers?


Or are you in your chamber where the shrine of
Virtue has been placed in your honor, and upon
Which you offer my heart and soul as sacrifice?


Or amongst the books, seeking human knowledge,
While you are replete with heavenly wisdom?


Oh companion of my soul, where are you? Are you
Praying in the temple? Or calling Nature in the
Field, haven of your dreams?


Are you in the huts of the poor, consoling the
Broken-hearted with the sweetness of your soul, and
Filling their hands with your bounty?


You are God's spirit everywhere;
You are stronger than the ages.


Do you have memory of the day we met, when the halo of
You spirit surrounded us, and the Angels of Love
Floated about, singing the praise of the soul's deed?


Do you recollect our sitting in the shade of the
Branches, sheltering ourselves from Humanity, as the ribs
Protect the divine secret of the heart from injury?


Remember you the trails and forest we walked, with hands
Joined, and our heads leaning against each other, as if
We were hiding ourselves within ourselves?


Recall you the hour I bade you farewell,
And the Maritime kiss you placed on my lips?
That kiss taught me that joining of lips in Love
Reveals heavenly secrets which the tongue cannot utter!


That kiss was introduction to a great sigh,
Like the Almighty's breath that turned earth into man.


That sigh led my way into the spiritual world,
Announcing the glory of my soul; and there
It shall perpetuate until again we meet.


I remember when you kissed me and kissed me,
With tears coursing your cheeks, and you said,
"Earthly bodies must often separate for earthly purpose,
And must live apart impelled by worldly intent.


"But the spirit remains joined safely in the hands of
Love, until death arrives and takes joined souls to God.


"Go, my beloved; Love has chosen you her delegate;
Over her, for she is Beauty who offers to her follower
The cup of the sweetness of life.
As for my own empty arms, your love shall remain my
Comforting groom; you memory, my Eternal wedding."


Where are you now, my other self? Are you awake in
The silence of the night? Let the clean breeze convey
To you my heart's every beat and affection.


Are you fondling my face in your memory? That image
Is no longer my own, for Sorrow has dropped his
Shadow on my happy countenance of the past.


Sobs have withered my eyes which reflected your beauty
And dried my lips which you sweetened with kisses.


Where are you, my beloved? Do you hear my weeping
From beyond the ocean? Do you understand my need?
Do you know the greatness of my patience?


Is there any spirit in the air capable of conveying
To you the breath of this dying youth? Is there any
Secret communication between angels that will carry to
You my complaint?


Where are you, my beautiful star? The obscurity of life
Has cast me upon its bosom; sorrow has conquered me.


Sail your smile into the air; it will reach and enliven me!
Breathe your fragrance into the air; it will sustain me!


Where are you, me beloved?
Oh, how great is Love!
And how little am I!

Khalil Gibran