Malek's Moorish Tales

Meanderings about life and technology

Sitting Alone

Sitting alone between the walls of a crowded hall

-Empty feeling of loneliness-

People like rocks stare at me,

No compassion, no tolerance.

Then the clock, on the wall, says its word !


I want to escape, but where to ?

The city like a spider has trapped me in its net,

and the walls -frontier of immagination-


A child I want to be,

but the physist says he knows,

to chaos he wants to send me ...

Entropy is the proof, he says

and the clock, on the wall, keeps the beat.


From the distance, far away,

I hear the call of freedom,

the call of the poet,

-heart without remorse-

child to eternity...


And the clock, on the wall, says its last word.

And the clock, on the wall, I'm gonna break it ...

Wichita, Kansas, 1991


A World of neurones,

of atoms and waves.

A World whose color is Brain,

Kindom of ethereal reason,

where the blackboard is throne,

words, empty tools,

heart a machine

swallowing and pucking blood.

A World where the bird is dumb,

the mountain a variety of rock,

the tree a mine of wood.

The song is measured in pitch,

color in wavelength,

fragrance no longer action

but passive result of reaction.

A world were bond are chemical,

attraction a quantity,

time a dimension

and the clock is just a tool...

دقات الزمن

ليكن ليلك نهاري

وفراغك ملء قلبي

روحي نائمة

تحت رماد حبك


كيف تتحمل عيناي رمشة ضوء

تقتحم صدري رمح أمل

ليمتلىء قلبي من جديد


من أين يأتي ضوء النهار؟


أختبىء حلف ظلي

أرفض تفاؤل قلب

ظننته لن يحيا


لم بيضت ليلي المحبوب

أخرجتني من جنتي




أيتها النفس الآمنة

انبعثي في قلبي

كوني ثاني نفس

في كبدي

اختبئي في مغارة صدر

حتى تنجي من حكم



ومن دقات الزمن ...

Unfinished Rhapsody

Inner stillness

-Caged bird-

Halted time


Why rehearse ?

-Voiceless bird-

Silence rules


Why resist ?

-Hunted bird-

Destiny thrones


Letting go ...

-Wingless bird-

Wind blows


Thunder brain

-Walking bird-

Storming sound


Standing mast

-Singing bird-

born poem

Hymn to moderation


When the heart trembles

-Shivering new born-

Not taken, not mothered



a heart without fear,

but the fear of fear,

and the lack of fear


Fair is a heart,

when it is not empty,

nor is it full,

ecstasy of moderation