Category Archives: Poetry
Each country has its own brilliant poets; Germany has J. W. Goethe, Great Britain has Robert Burns and Russia has Alexander Pushkin. Ukraine is famous for Taras Shevchenko – an outstanding Ukrainian artist.
T. Shevchenko was born on the 9th of March, 1814 into a family of serfs, in the village of Moryntsi, Cherkasy region. His childhood was very hard: he lost his mother at the age of 9 and his father died when he was 11 years. The boy was an orphan, he grew in poverty and misery. At the age of 14, he become a servant in the house of landlord Engelhardt and at the age of 15 he met a great Russian painter Karl Briullov who brought him freedom (he painted a portrait of the famous Russian poet V. Zhukovsky and sold the picture for 2500 rubles).This sum of money was given to landlord and the Shevchenko got freedom. In 1838, he entered the Academy of Arts in St. Petersburg since he was fond of poetry and painting.
In 1840, his first collection of poems was published. The book was called “Kobzar”. On the 13th of May, 1843 he started his first trip around Ukraine. During this trip he met a lot of famous writers and painters, he made some his pictures and added them to the album “Picturesque Ukraine”.
The waves were crashing from the sea
As he sat next to me,
basking in the warming sun
and he spoke of the day,
when it had all begun.
The waves played at our feet;
and he began to relate to me.
‘Tis the land where white meets the earth;
And is raised so high, entwining with the sky.
Can you hear the trumpet sound,
can be heard all around.
See the march of the valient soldier
See the salute of your defender
Thousands gathered around that day,
When Jinnah declared independence, to say,
“Pakistan Resolution” was now in motion
Fight for freedom, was the notion
Were the chanting voices in the air:
Freedom was all that they had a care.
As lightning that cracks the stormy clouds
Like a flash of light in the darkness of the sea
A candle, a hope, a hope, was finally seen.
The radio beside, broke the train of memory,
When the march of the soldiers,
Thudding against the sounding drums of harmony
A loyal heart, beating with the defender’s.
He raised his hand and saluted;
to the parade,
That was marching,
Ten thousan miles away.
Written By Haya Saboor
I can see your eyes cry
Full of tears that I want to wipe
I can feel you heart sigh
Vanish into the cold night
Syria! My heart cries for you
As I watch your country burn
Syria! My eyes are wet for you
As I hear your cries in the sun
With every breath that you take
I know that you pray
I too stand with you for your sake
And I too pray
Syria! Land of boundless beauty
I wish you freedom
Syria! Land of my friends
I pray for your freedom
Light a candle in the night
Burn it the rise of dawn
Let the fire catch the night
Air; Will burn like the sun
Syria! Land of those people
I stand by you
Syria! Land of my home!
I stand for you
Syria! When will I come home
Safe from all harm?!
Syria! I stand before God:
And ask for Freedom!!!
Written by: Haya Saboor
Time has passed away don’t care what’s left behind
It keeps on going on like the water of the tide
On the beach and the sand that it takes
Under the golden sun as it bakes
Ancient ruins under the sea, ever wonder what they mean
Look beyond the fallen towers and your glorious history
Look past what once was, stop living on a dream
What tomorrow brings will always be a mystery
But what you do will always be worth something
The world may be going to the West
Does that make the East worth nothing?
Rejected, neglected hear the voices calling to the West
Water turned to fire, Blood mixed with the air
What are you to breathe but a chasm of despair
The rain pours but not only enough to hide her tears
But the thunder ignites her fears
The lost paths are reopening
The lost people are returning
The lost lives will not have died in vain
For we will fight in sickness and pain
Waters of the Earth, shores of Syria
Protect Her people
Waters of the Earth, banks of Nile
Protect Her people
Earth, Water, Air, of the Earth
Protect your people
Protect these lost souls
Help them find a way back to Earth.
Waste not the time you have at hand
Waste not the time you are given
For then time’s curse shall fall upon you
And then there will be no one to hold your hand.
Written by: Haya Saboor