Libya is a fierce Bedouin
who loves when she loves.. who she wants
and hates when she hates.. who wants to
water the barren passersby
with a bucket of riddles and singing.

“Libya News” has the honor to publish this collection of poems by Omar Al Kadi, the Libyan poet and writer. They are confiscated poems. Although most of them were published in Libyan periodicals, when they were published in a book titled: “Marich’s Songs” in 2000, the General Administration of Publications Control in Libya decided to confiscate the book and prevent its distribution.

The book “Marish Songs” includes three poetry collections: “Marish Songs”, “Marich Trace My Footsteps” and “Return to Marish”. These poems will be published in “Libya News” successively, God willing.

The country you love and Tzdrak

Libyan Bedouin fierce
love when you love .. Who wants
and hate while you hate .. Who wants
watering passers – arid
bucket of Ohaj vocals
and receive those who encircled songs
and performs to her heart on horseback fantasy

Libya horse galloping not lumbering
only riding the wind without a saddle and bridle

Libya Palm luxuriant
does not grant Arajenha only those
considered thorns, and slaughtered his palms ropes
female lustily frantic
lust sand storm
passes over the clouds cool
does not bend only to kiss fleeting
no water to overflowing until the navel is
not something understood by wetness
only breasts Almtbaeidin
this neck fugitive towards the sea
Such as horse panicky

Libya olive lush its
oil moisturizes hungry, laughing dark
love her just as I love this face ,
which always meet me in the mirrors
grimacing and wandering ,
which terrifies Bsalilh herds Hdoia
and birds of my dreams
who exasperate me, and scoff at me
and exposes while hiding
vestigial minute Khalcati
usually clipped balloons
in the sky Grora
In the gardens of Zhuyi the
tomb of my secrets is dug up .

I love it as I love my name, which
rises out of its flankers a wild herb that
protrudes out of its rock grinning like the face of a wolf,
and I hate it as I hate my sordid habits and
this foolish affront
to reason and pain.

Show me how can we get along?
O female arrogance
and Orfiqi my love sighted and blind fate
Delaney How Obutk Thread Tools Posting skinny
and how Otmask in your presence
Bogdani diatoms

O Libya Where to Flee?
And you are the heart fountain from
which unquenchable
leave , run from you
and come back to you as back
shade to furrow
Ostmha as malign linear blind
and Asabha as OSP Aahti sustainable
and Otervq them as Otervq Bajuz cross the road
nothing in mind – giving you
only my being broken, the broad and my heart Alutar
Delaney How do I love you more
How do I tame this vulgar pamper?
How can I not trample my confusion in the crowded street?
And you’re clasping the arms of a naked woman
or severely obscured.

For you we die every day we
give birth to children every day
we shoot and trumpets Thursday and
wash on Friday everything

for you We endure our savage nicknames and
these bitter, defiant features For
you Our supplications ascend
into your blue sky to be
veiled by the clouds

you we rob you and for you we die.

I love your children Scamps
while bite my fingers
and while scratching my face
and when Anatonna donkey
loved Vtt Alsabat am
Alhamdat in the evening
of Ojhin wires beats phones
and headsets sleep Whispering
on pillows dumb

I love your wives Almqhorat
who Arodhan men patient and children of
illiterate women who necks Drobek
In search of firewood and
dug your rocks in search of water,
educated women fleeing from the whiteness of the quilt
to the blackness of the veil, and
I love spinsters.

How to wither eyes pointing
behind the doors attack?
How do peaches ripen
and then crinkle under the clothes?
Why does a palm tree live that has not been shaken by the wind,
and the dew has not awakened on its springs?

thy bewildered men in the presence of undressed women
who marry haphazardly,
who mourn in strange taverns
their barren days,
who take their wives
in the back
chairs, and whores
in the chairs next to me,

love thy lost youth,
ever standing at the
noisy, noisy, laughing crossroads for
no reason.
Who sell vintage evening
in the dark alleys
who smoked hashish
and reflect on your streets
from behind dark glasses and
in slow cars peaceful
youth Almichngen
who believe in Banz while flying
who Ankm emptiness
and chasing them premature aging

loved hardliners Hyuhk
who know more than they should
therefore not Iqlmwa obsessions
did not forget KFIC Alqahlten

I love My simple relatives
who are disturbed by my celibacy and shake
hands with my left-handed mood with a rightful

I love my friends
who threaten my loneliness
with sarcasm and poetry We
support each other so that we do not fall

I love these dirty streets
on both sides of which tales slept
Childhood fingers sunk into its walls and
memories climbed over it.

I love you with tired sadism and aged maturity. I curse you
thousand times a day,
since I ran out to morning coffee with
difficulty, and until it slipped between me and my pillow,
nothing in my mind I give you
but my wasted life,
which I did not love as I should and
did not separate it as I desired.