Happy birthday, dad...

O ya “Ali”
You were a child, in a small village.
You wanted to attend school.
But you couldn’t.
You had to help your father in the “jal”.
But you had big dreams,
beyond the jal,
and the village.
You taught yourself how to read and write,
not caring about age.
And now, you calculate quicker than anyone.

As teenager, you started to sing poetry,
“Zajal” we call it.
You’ve been known since as “Ali the poet”
You sang for the land,
for life,
and for love.

You left to Beirut,
A child, who quickly turned a man.
In a plastic factory in “Sinn Elfil” you worked.
You got married,
And with her,
you built a family,
and thought you’ll raise it in peace.

Soon, war devils started their game,
Bullets...shelling....killing by the name,
you were told you live in the wrong side of a long line.
A line called “green line”.
And in a black day,
you took your family.
and left to another country.
There, you built a home,
away from home.

Four boys, and two girls, are your children.
You gave them love with no limits,
a life...full of smiles,
and the school,you always wanted.

Days passed...and they are no longer kids.
3 doctors,
a pharmacist
a hospital administrator,
and a lawyer.
And I saw your smiles,
and the tear in your eyes,
in each graduation,
in a big green field.

And now, ya “Abu Hussein”…
you’re still there,
with your hair turning grey,
your kids...flying away,
with “Hatem” and “Yara” you play!

The day I left,
“Allah ywafa’ak”, you said.
Forgive me ya “Abu Hussein”…
For not being in your birthday today.
Your laugh warmed my heart.
Your words made my day.
And knowing you are there,
For me….keep me alive,

For those wondering who is “Ali"..."Abu Hussein"
When I was a kid, he was my “daddy”
When I grew older, he became my friend.
And he’s always, my teacher.
And my role model.
Happy birthday, dad!