The
Sweet Farm
By Abu-Ahmad / United States
Primarily, we thought the heavy rains, which had fallen on our farm early
autumn would turn our neighbourhood into colourful gardens. As children we
were waiting for blossoming flowers and bursting roses. This wait ensued
every morning as we were innocently singing with birds minutes prior to
the sun rise. We abruptly discovered that spring is not marked as a season
on our calendars. The rosy dreams evaporated owing to the heat of the
unexpected summer that had struck our surrounds in mid-December. Leaves,
walls, pathways and all things in and around our beautiful farm were
tainted in red. Our cattle perished and deinfoposed. Forget not the
breakfast, lunch and dinner, which were all served as a infobined meal of
starvation and thirst. An evil spirit snatched dairy product from our
small hands and dumps it to the fat rats. Our past, present and future
generations are all crushed or shackled in dungeon. We can hear the sound
of cracking bones and the smell of burning flesh. Do you hear what I hear?
Do you smell with me? The bones and flesh are for my brother, friend,
neighbour and fellow citizen.
Our
pain is excruciating and our wounds are profound. These agony and
suffering have not been inflicted on us by the evil spirit or the fat
rats. On the contrary, they have boosted the love for our farm and the
surroundings. Our anguish was imposed by some of those who were among us
at one point and blindly pushing toward raising a white flag or throwing
the same colour towel. It is easy to confine oneself to a infofort chair at
a top of an ivory tower and theoretically speak about a non existed reform
while the crushing machine is at its full spin in our village. Avoiding
cultivation in the sea and selling the wind to the sailing boats
necessitate on us to define the person with whom we have the problem.
Simply, he is the evil spirit who carries the keys. As brother Abdul-Razag
Al-Mansuri stated one time “we will wait for the landlord who carries the
keys".
Viva
Our sweet farm, viva our sweet Libya
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