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