In Lamenting My Dad

In Lamenting My Dad

Rifaat Youssef-Agha (1920-2014)

My Dad, a word which we always saved in our heart

My Dad, a word with which our house always chanted

You always were the torch which guided our way

Neither prose is capable to award you, nor poetry

You were the knight that taught us chivalry

That life is a guitar and honesty is the material of its strings

You were the example which we always wished to be

Even after we traveled and were separated by seas and trips

You are still as the flag to the homeland

And as the rain to the plants

As the sail to the ship

And as the flowers to the bee

If loyalty can be measured, then you should be the meter

And if fatherhood has a weighing scale, then you should be the one

Every time when it has been asked who had the biggest heart

Then all eyes turned towards you

Every where we went, you were recognized like a fire on the top of a mountain

Every time we mentioned your name, complements quickly flooded

If morality had a family name, then it would take yours

And if it had a weight, then it would become real heavy by you

***

Oh Dad, forgive us in case we didn’t do enough to help you, even God knows

That we did all what can be done and were dedicated to you

We did not leave any medicine or treatment without offering, but you know

No doctor can fix what aging has damaged

Were you really waiting to see me?

Only God will know the answer

I spent the final three days (of your life) by your side

Where we communicated only with the language of eyes and hearts

Then, in the tummy of the grave, the last goodbye between us took place

That was where my tears rained on your coffin

Oh Dad, forgive us for leaving you there and returning without you

We all will be left there one day and other graves will surround us as fences

Oh, Abu Adnan (Dad’s nick name) you were the best dad

But, unfortunately, death doesn’t consider who is bad or good

It is death which doesn’t either distinguish who is a prince or a pauper

It will reach every one, even though it doesn’t have claws or nails

Every one is waiting in line,

Every one will be hugged by a hole that is sealed by rocks

A hole whose mattress is the dirt and whose blanket is the coffin

And where the corpses are the mates and the neighbors

On all the coffins, I can read a letter

It contains a warning and a reminder in its meaning

***

You carried us on your shoulders to play when we were babies

But we carried you on our shoulders to the graveyard and gave you to the grave-digger

Forgive us, but you know that to honor the dead is to lay them to rest

And there aren’t many choices here

Our hope is that your grave will be an entrance to

The heaven that is full of rivers

Forgive us but all we can do for you now

Is to keep your memory alive forever

And, as long as we are alive, to keep asking God to pardon you

And, also, to keep shedding tears on you

Every one, one day, will be called by the bed of death

Every one, one day, will be invited by The Creator

Some of us today, but maybe us and others tomorrow

Only The Creator has the knowledge of the ages

Death is the unchallenged fact of life in the universe

But where, when and how, all were and will stay some of God’s secrets

Life will always receive some of us

And fate will always recall others

Sadness today is doubled, over you and the homeland

Over both of you, our hearts are bloody and our sights are misty

***

A Poem translation

(Can be shared without permission)

By Tarif Youssef-Agha

An Expatriate Arab Syrian Writer & Poet

Friday February 7, 2014

Houston, Texas

My Dad passed away in Jeddah, KSA, the afternoon of Wednesday January 29, 2014, 3 days after I arrived from the USA to support him in his illness.

http://sites.google.com/site/tarifspoetry