مِسحة في مختبرات الغابرين «مجرى السُّلالات والفصائل»

And the aid..

And the aid, oh red line of my blood..

In my blood,

anything they found when they took a sample from you

and placed it under the microscopes

like the mutations of those fleeing from justice!

Did they really trap your droplets in the centrifuge

and spin you at that incredible speed

then sprayed you there in the clouds

like ammonia bursts

and rained you down on the yellowing grass

and the dry trunks

so you poured down heavily and exaggeratedly

on the Syrian forests!

Did they try to extract your fiery traits?

Did they distinguish between the ghosts of Shashan and the hideouts of Zahi in the Sooda and the thickets of Brumana in the Metn district!

**

What will they find, by God,

while you sway through the ages

and prehistory!

Perhaps they will find in your red cells

claws and fangs and speckled skin

belonging to the ancestors of our mountains

as they raced with those monsters in their elegant strides

until they were on the brink of extinction together!

Wait..

Let this poem stop here,

and listen to my call, oh tiger;

Ah ah, oh cousin,

“By God, I had a strong heart,”

didn't we name you “Abu Fatima”

and consider you the mythical chief of our clan

and the guardian of the house,

so come on.. come,

so we can plan our last attack

and go out together

to rip open the belly of this vile world!

**

We’re done; let’s return now to poetry.

I will dictate the instructions for the onslaught;

Oh my little creatures.. advance,

the fiery red ones.. halt to the left

and oh girls of immunity, prepare on the right,

it’s my war..

let’s storm those blood plates

the veins

the arteries,

and the tiniest capillaries,

and challenge this planet

with the pride of Pushkin and the verses of “Abar Ishqa”

“And the love of Abar Ishqa diminishes, O spirit of the rifles, why did you scatter, scatter..

Oh, how sweet is the one whose heart is weak; if he heard the spirit of the rifles.. he would die, die!”

Let’s jump together into the plasma jelly

as if it were those naked leaps in the pond of “Al-Muhtatiba,”

and sing “Greetings to you, O breeze of the south,”

let’s run in the course of my blood circulation

like the white Caucasian wolves

and carry the banner of Prometheus and Tchaikovsky

As for Zahra, the daughter of Abu Sabhan, the beauty of the suits,

let’s raise her on our shoulders!

I forgot; if you pass by Fyodor and the party of laughing demons in his head

leave him to his whims,

he will finally find nothing but the slanted ones.. at the cellar door!

Oh, it seems I got excited.

And I will deliver the battle speech;

Stand tall, oh species

we will leave our mark in this raid,

and let the DNA and gene maps

go to their place in the tablets!

I have arranged the tasks for the functions of blood

and the shares equally from the oxygen ratio.

**

As for you - oh heart - hold on

hold on, oh pump of burdens

oh sanctuary of wolves and the wounds of its unique nature,

cling to the sparkle of the stars in her eyes from afar

and gaze into the stretches of her necks

the heights of the snowy mountains..

and how do you leave her eternal howl

wandering in the lineages and universes like an astronaut

living in his cabin

and filled with a fierce longing for family,

the family you will never know!