AH SWEET MYSTERY 

OF LIFE .... I STILL 

CAN'T FIND YOU 

Poem for Today - Sunday - September 21, 2014

THE GAME

When the travelling planes pass at great altitudes

over distant villages

the children halt their play

and raise small hands over their eyes

to view the beautiful travelling toy

and as soon as it disappears behind some scattered clouds

they rush along in full force

after a torn ball

and repeat short songs

but no one knows

where their lyrics come from.

(1978)

© Banda ‘Abd al-Hamid [1957- ]

in When the Words Burn,

An Anthology of

Modern Arabic Poetry: 1945-1987,

translated by John Mikhail Asfour

Page 129