My Tribe
This tribe like an ancient tree
Sheds the leaves of it’s past
Spreading my sorrows and happiness all around
It’s my tribe
Who knows?
How generous
How god-fearing or how miser it was
In its shadow life has grazed its charming days;
Till now hasn’t a sword been in my dreams
Neither for the old shotgun girly waist has come
Like heart, beats the weak fingers of my hand
Many times I asked father
The name and cast of forefathers
Wrote and kept it hundred times on papers, lost it hundred times;
Decades ago my forefathers
Have been cameleers, took the old guests of the sea
Defeated many disasters and darknesses with the power of their faith
From Adam to Solomon and then to Darbesh
From my late father to my elder brother and then to me;
This tribe, is the tribe of mine
Is annoyed with me
Like the gone sunshine
Like a tired old man standing on the road
Requesting for ride and asking “take me further”
I thought to speak with him and tell, they are in hurry and don’t take others
Also you don’t have a penny, they won’t take for free
I try to hide myself but still it appears to me
Asks every passing shadow and door;
This tribe, the tribe of my progenitors
Neither is my dream nor is the desire of my offspring