LARBI
HOUMAIDI
Slaves Of Darkness
Believing to be the best of the
reasonable.
Embalms of the mind
Have proliferated in the past
And today
They are calcified by the dust
of stupidity.
Stagnant mind
Inflated boxes
By dint of immobility, they rusted.
Heart of a swamp
A Wind that disturbed the air.
Hated by the carrion even more
by the wise.
Mouths blowing inside of boxes.
Psychopaths.
Slaves who have no cure.
Zamzam (holy water) could not
purify them
Nor could The hymn of the verses
tame them
Even
misfortunes of days did not
work.
Scary Noise
Is it night or darkness of a
burning love?
Lost ash
Darkness of a black hole.
When hungry spring arrives.
Around a lost heart, turns his
desire
The seed of his land is pain.
Each box has reserve of
deposits.
The flow of its rivers, are
tears
chained.
Sky, the curls of its stars, are
shining pearls.
This is life .
To love it is accelerated sand.
The fear of losing pleasure, is
a factor.
The omission, its wine, is
overflowing.
Hypocrisy of a woman.
A well with no bottom
It is maze.
With money and prestige, sells.
Husband and kids are better
luggage.
Crack of the soul
Impatience of street girls.
Day, which darkness
Is a roaring monster from a
jungle.
Its darkness and injustice is
the injustice of flexible passion.
A Heron
Injustice or glory
With it, without vigilance,
members have
assigned.
Or, misfortunes would be camps
of days.
That devour without getting
tired.
A heron, I am
waiting
subsistence in travels.
Every early morning
Till moonlight.
Neither inadvertently nor
inadvertently
But by looking at the torment of
destiny.
I am not a burner of hope
Rather, a bearer of sins.
Because kings do not fear fate.
If the incidence of wars intensifies.
saddle of horses bears glory.
I am the heron
My night is neck of ascent
On the side of my fervor so that
it does not break.
And the furnace
If it happened,
As well as the leanness of days
Does not sadly
Even if it proliferates.
LARBI HOUMAIDI
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