When

All meanings are petrified,

And all what is holy

Loses spirit and reaches its end,

The poets continue what God has started.

 

Life is

A passing coincidence;

Neither a believer nor an unbeliever.

Her manifestation is the body,

And her enemy: the Day of Judgement.

 

This world is my prison,

And the body

Is a king of miserable,

Tyrannical clay.

 

This soul is myself,

And I

Have been scattered in all souls

As fragments.

And I am

A sole individual.

 

By Tunisian Poet Ahmad Omar Zaabar

Translation by Myriam Rizkallah

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