The Republic of the Father and Son
By Tarif Youssef Agha
No matter from where you enter Syria
You will be greeted by a sign welcoming you into (The Assad Syria)
So try not to laugh when you know that
It is a Republic which the father passes to his son
And try even not to smile, in order not to be arrested
As, in fact, you are there as a no body
And be careful where you step on the ground
As under every foot, there is a corpse resting
I won’t be exaggerating if I say that those who are walking atop are
Jealous of those who are resting underneath
A massacre took place in every bazaar
And death made its way into every square
Therefore, try not to extend your stay, as you are there where
They hold up the sign that reads (Assad, or we burn the country)
You are there just as a sheep in the leader’ farm
And as long as you are there, then you are a sheep forever
If you are a journalist, then you are considered a criminal
The regime over there has always hated the truth
Even if you support that regime, don’t think you are safe
As you are no more than just a number
But if you belong to the same sect (Alawyte), then be very careful
As you are the fuel that is used to keep the country in flame
So, no matter who you are, write your last will before heading there
As the one who is entering there is as the one who is entering death
As the regime over there is a mixture of thieves and murderers
It is a regime that is corrupt to the bone
***
A Poem translation
(Can be shared without permission)
By Tarif Youssef-Agha
An Expatriate Arab Syrian Writer & Poet
Member of the ‘Syrian Revolutionary Writers Assembly’
Friday, October 16, 2015, Houston, Texas
http://sites.google.com/site/tarifspoetry