* (My condolences, darling) *** ************* My pen: Maysa Ali Dakdouk / Syria /

*** (My condolences, darling) ***

************* My pen:

Maysa Ali Dakdouk / Syria /

****************

A person in my poem

Surgeon surplus surgery

Fill the surgeon's lips with salt

Its doors are open to its tragedies

And the sea over

His gown is red brother

His coat is trimmed from Yasmine, Bilsan and Nakheel

Browse his history

Lie on a commode

And the doors are open to his tragedies

And the sea over

Gossip, fluffy and fluffy

Braying, bleating and howling

And the voices of Blable are looming

Lovers

The hymns of their hymns go out by force

Scream whispering

The night is long black, long

The eyes sleep open to pain

Daydreams and stay up late

Serving as angels

Their love is like a breeze

Their love

Love the earth for rain

Lust for dawn juice

Greening their yearning

As long as the spike comes from its sleeves

To the top of the sky

To the miserable table

Close the doors

where is he ?

Painful or dying?

Swinging between despair and hope

And the sea over

I saw him surreptitiously between the cup and evening

I hugged him in the wind gap

Take care of the sea

My poem choked in the mazes of the waves

My heart is a memory on the balconies of its history

The sea rose

Announcing the Al-Yamar revolution.

***************

*** 6/1/2020 by my pen:



Maysa Ali Dakdouk