Thursday, 5 September 2013

Poem: A Taste Of Lebanon

The sun and the street cars speak the same language here,
Non-stop blaring throughout the day
Kids running around; on streets, on roads, exploding fireworks;
There is no difference
There are no limits in Lebanon,
The beauty of this country has no limits
The  purple and orange sky in fajr
And the moon at night looks more magnificent than I've ever seen,
The breathtaking mountains of 3asoon and Za7le,
The clear beach in Mina, znood essit,
The people
Who have been through so much for this country yet their forgiving smile crinkles with pride,
The smell of m3assal is perfection,
No other country knows how to make a perfect argilé like here;

The men sit on tables in cafes till dawn, 
Playing card games, drinking rustic arabic coffee in tiny cups and 
ring-smoking argilé,

Nostalgic smells and tastes fire at me,
I feel at home here yet 
My long absences make me a stranger,
My tongue doesn't move as fast and
My accent isn't as deep
But it's all heart-felt.

Lebanon is a big part of me.