A Saudi September

A Saudi September

By Mohammad Alrotayyan
Translated by Maha Noor Elahi

(This is a translation of a poem by the amazing Saudi writer Mohammad Al-Rotayyan…It’s one the sincerest things I’ve read about Saudi Arabia!)

You can find the Arabic link here http://www.alrotayyan.com/articles.php?action=show&id=150

You will find some mistakes in the English version in the link provided and this is because I translated it instantly and it was posted on Al-Rotayyan’s website immediately after I had translated it….I also left one stanza without translation as I felt it might not be understood in other cultures)  

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My country is neither a palace, nor an oil well, nor is it a terrorist.
My country; open homes for unknown guests.
My country; gateways calling passers-by.

My country is neither a palace, nor an oil well, nor is it a terrorist.

My country; modest kind people,
Who open their doors to a stranger…a night visitor…
Prepare him a rich feast…grant him all his needs,
And then let him go… without a question posed.

In my country…annoying matters there are
And delightful pleasant ones,
Yet for me it remains, in spite of its roughness,
The noblest of Allah’s creations;
The most prominent land of all lands.

My country is not a salary at the end of the month;
It’s my treasure from the beginning of existence till the end.
My country is not a national anthem in an official event;

It’s my favorite song which I reiterate, memorize by heart,
And sway with the rhythm of its love.

My country; a prayer call that penetrates the sky
And soars in a space voyage
That all the NASA gears can never generate.

My country: the first Holy Mosque…
The purest soil on which one can pray.

My country is always so shy to say: “I love you”
Yet it makes you feel every sense of the word!

My country; coarse men of the grinding desert,
Who turn into tribes of sweet rivers…
Who turn into children
When they fall in love,
Seeking a remote resort
To release their tender tears
From the prisons of their eyes.

All those cement blocks will be a wreck
All those steel bars will rust
And the oil will dry one day,
But my country; people who never give way
Whose hearts don’t rust
And the springs of their souls never dry.

I’ll hold the flag
And shout at the ignorant world’s face:
My country is neither a palace, nor an oil well, nor is it a terrorist!

Every year….
Every September….

Every day….

May you remain….

My lover….my lady, and my country.

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