Do they hear? – From the top of the podium – ✍️ Yasser Al-Fadni
No… I will not deviate… I am not a thunderbolt whose step is chained by the weight of iron… One of the greatest heroic epics he wrote when the clarity and height of my mind was pure patriotism that embraced the luster in poetry. The immortal national poet among us is Muhyiddin Fares, the one who was suckled by the city of Arqo in beauty and art. Perhaps it is the city in which he was born. The poet Tijani Saeed described it as a piece. of paradise that has lost its way to earth. Muhyiddin Faris, one of the poets who broke away from traditional poetic writing, rode the horse of ta'feel, and perhaps he followed the school of Muhammad Saeed Al-Abbasi and Al-Tijani Yusuf Bashir. .
Do they hear? The clamor of thunder… the clamor of millions of people passes through the ears of existence… they hear only the feeling of their life as if they were deaf to the rocks. I will not deviate from the struggle. Its unique song is patriotic. by the owner of the strong voice, Hassan Khalifa Al-Atbarawi, in a unique epic that the hearts of all who hear it listen to before calling it. This immortal national song has a melody as if its prayers and refrains were explained by it. wonderful poetic marten
Mohieddin Fares is a poet who deserves to be swept well from the dust that rises every time on his memory because he breathes beauty, elegance and poetry. His poetry chooses words that contain a strange attraction and surprising vocabulary when he says in another poem: “Do not… do not sleep at night, or do not sleep more deeply… the wind extinguished the lamp and laughed Behind the tents, which is the beginning of the poem “Night and the Refugee”, as if witnessing this. time, and expresses the night and a refugee woman huddled with her children under her roof, thunder and rain, illness, hunger, need and loss of loved ones, and only their memory remains…. They have become victims at the hands of unjust people.
An eloquent description that Faris took as if he embodied today's reality when he said: There is a caravan that wanders in the labyrinth of time… without a guide… blind and deprived of destiny… blind of destiny… walking. barefoot, naked, hungry and homeless… at the foot of the hills in the world of garbage and ruins, digging up… green resources overflowing with wine… a greed of desires that crosses landmarks and breasts. they hear? Unfortunately, they are in different capitals. They do not hear or even understand!
From my platform I look… where I see… soon, God willing: tomorrow we will return… we will certainly return… to the singing village, to the hut draped with flowers… we walk the skulls of the masters, holding high their objects… the neighbors hoot, the children dance, and the little ones, the palm trees, the willows and the seedlings, with bright fruits… No, we will not deviate from the struggle. Sudan will return to us and the melodies of the morning will return. Mercy and forgiveness be upon you, our poet Mohieddin Fares and the zealous patriot Atbarawi, and be with the immortals.
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