Sojourn of Poverty and Revolution by `Abdul-Wahab Al-Bayyati (my translation):
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From the bottom I call on you
my tongue has dried up
and my butterflies burnt
on your mouth
Is this snow from the cold
of your nights?
Is this poverty from the generosity
of your hands?
On the gate of night
his shadow races mine
and stays hungry and naked
in the field
and follows me to the river
Is this silent stone from my tomb?
Is this crucified time in the squares
from my age?
Are you this, my poverty?
Without a face, without
a homeland?
Are you this, my time?
Mirror scratching your face
and your conscience under
the heels of harlots has died
And your poor parents have
sold you to the dead among
the living
Who will sell to the dead?
And who will shatter the silence?
And who among us?
Is the brave of his time,
to repeat what we have said
and who will confide to the wind
the implication that
we are still alive
Is this dead moon a human being?
On the pole of dawn,
on the wall of the orchard
Will you steal me?
Will your abandon me?
Without a homeland or shrouds?
Kids we, oh, were
and it was...
If poverty were human being
I would have killed him*,
and drunk his blood
If poverty is a human being
(to be continued)
*Al-Bayyati does not mention that the saying "If poverty were a man, I would have killed him" is attributed to `Ali Ibn Abi Talib in 7th Century AD.