Nazik Al-Malaika Her Life and Poetry

What injustice it is that a living being should wither and his youthful beauty fade

Then his lovers should carry him away as a corpse, dried up by hopes and melodies

And they should put him to sleep on thorns and rocks, under the dirt and stones

And they should return, leaving his remains for a world of hidden secrets

He and the bitter solitude and darkness in his terrifying and terrible grave

Under the rule of worms and thorns and sand and the hands of annihilation and torture

He who yesterday used to laugh joyfully and sing with the wet breeze

Gathering flowers every day and playing by the shore of the pond among the palm trees