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ur-t laq ara tatut; tajmilt i Muḥya akw d ǧaεuṭ Taher.... que la terre leur soit légère

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  #1  
Vieux 16/06/2011, 14h29
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Date d'inscription: mai 2011
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Par défaut Album : The white sheet (Tawṛiqt tacebḥant) [ENG]

From the beginning to the end
(Tagara n tezwert)


The words come out simply
Then they are ordered
Finding their place among their brothers
Waiting for the song to transport them
One does not dwell on them
Another learns them
Yet another understands them
At last they irritate those who don’t understand at all

The white sheet remains frozen
As anyone knows who has had to deal with it
How to get out the words
Even if we are in constant movement
The pen does not move
The hand is restrained by reason
And he who is finally given deliverance
Gifts this to those it will irritate

Let the water run its course
Life is so short
Observe those who can benefit from it
Who say that we only die once
Let those who do nothing but wait
In the belief they will alleviate their plight imploring
Let those who do nothing but dream
Perhaps they will have their revenge in paradise

Even if we are afraid of conflict
We know it will not spare us
Everyone says it is bad
Even if he makes it his companion
We have our share of conflict
One cannot escape
When we will believe it has been defeated
Anger will always be reborn

Leave, return, what difference is there
Troubles travel with us
When we seek a cure for a calamity
Another appears just as quickly
Profit has become synonymous with trouble
Poverty breeds jealousy
Troubles and wealth fatten the waters
Rivers that carry with them those who stumble

Even if your heart yearns and challenges
We have no power in our hands
Even if it wants to do nothing but good
And it could make it happen
Troubles will not spare us
Let us hope they will fade with time
Perhaps we can rid ourselves of some
And learn to live with the others


Zixi

England
22.12.2010
  #2  
Vieux 16/06/2011, 14h31
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Date d'inscription: mai 2011
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Conflict
(Amenuγ)

On the dawn of the first
Day of life
Out of the sea springs a fish
And it found itself in front of the sun
And everything belonged to him
But his brother appears
He pushes him aside and knocks him down
And destroys him before he was able to shout
I do not know why
But
This is the day the conflict began

Man contemplated
And was impressed by what he saw
He wondered to himself
From whence he came and to whence he went
So in order to concur with his consciousness
And be able to face the next day
He raised his eyes towards the sky
And he says: I shall do according to your will
I do not know why
But
This is the day the conflict began

A country raised itself against the other one
And it says: I want to get bigger
You will give me your lands
One way or another
You cannot defend yourself
I will destroy you to the very foundations
I need your territory
And I know how to build
I do not know why
But
This is the day the conflict began

They are searching for the key
Of a door which they have not found yet
Wondering if the spring will be gentle
While they fall numbed by the winter’s frosts
Some people say that they plan for the distant future
And each sees what he wants to see
But between them harmony became clouded
I do not know why
But
This is the day the conflict began

As soon as the father opened his mouth
The son got up to obey
But his teacher refrained him
Saying to him: Return to where you were
Say in the impertinent tone of the father:
Things do not work anymore, so
When you want to send to me wherever it is
Ask me if I agree or not
I do not know why
But
This is the day the conflict began

Brothers shared an inheritance
Each had an equally beautiful part
But the elder brother raised himself up
Against the second born, younger child
I am greater than you by age
And it is worth more of the prize
I exceed you in knowledge
I deserve a bigger part
I do not know why
But
This is the day the conflict began

When the world will have emptied
Of all which populated the earth
The dawn will not appear any more
And life will come to an end
All which was will not be any more
As if it had never existed
When the last one collapses
He will exclaim: Against whom shall I pour my hatred
I do not know why
But
This is the day the conflict will end


Zixi
England
19.12.2010
  #3  
Vieux 16/06/2011, 14h33
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Icerfan Icerfan est déconnecté
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Date d'inscription: mai 2011
Messages: 2 017
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The White Sheet...
(Tawṛiqt tacebḥant)


I awoke early in the morning,
And decided to write
A virgin page awaited me
What was I going to tell her?
I was afraid of committing myself to her
And that my intellect wouldn’t honour this meeting
Perhaps she wishes herself a tree
To lean against.

The white page remains frozen
The ink doesn’t want to blacken her.

How can I describe
A present that denies its past
How can I describe
A present denied in the past

By midday
I picked up my pencil again
I scrutinised the sheet of paper and the guitar
Was I going to write, to compose?
But the strings did not want to vibrate
To my hoped for melody
The walls reverberated
To the echo of my old songs

The white page remains frozen
The ink doesn’t want to blacken her.


How can you express yourself
When the sad pencil cries
And on the once melodious guitar
The strings vibrate with sad tears, crying

That evening I returned
To the same blank sheet awaiting me
I looked in vain
But the words abandoned me
I called to them with my guitar
But they spurned me
The night dwelt on me
A night announcing the long day before

The white page remains frozen
The ink doesn’t want to blacken her..

Why should I stay awake
When the words no longer speak to me
I struggle for that which carries me to sleep
The words go against my reason

But I believe I finally understand
Why the situation is confused
As soon as I want to write
My reason scours the countryside
Pulled by agonies
Feeling something which it missed
How to bear the pain of sick knowledge
One of the fingers of the hand?

The white page remains frozen
The ink doesn’t want to blacken her.

Deceived by time
The words have deserted their meaning
Time is deceptive
So let us wait for better days

I was going to go out, resigned
That reason continued to ignore me
But I turned again
To contemplate this virgin page
And I found arranged on it the words
Of all that I have just described
Resembling swallows
Perched on a wire

The white page is entwined
Blackened by the ink

When we do not know how to speak
The poem makes us remember
When we start to forget
The poem will awaken us.


Zixi
England
18.12.2010
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