Steps

I come back to the empty home…
And ring the doorbell
Just to remember
the echo of your steps.

A Prison

The dreaming prisoner
Is asking his unjust guard
“How would you know
You are not my prisoner?
Aren’t we separated by
The same bars?!”

A Train Crosses the Desert

These countries look like a train,
That pull the air-conditioned coffins as a long tail.
They look like a lady,
With a dusty breast burnt by the sun,
With a body painted by dried gardens.
A train that cries between every two stations,
Where pavements are made
Of mirage and illusion.
In its stomach we struggle,
Fighting our defeats,
To beautify our fake organs.
The dragons of estrangement
Are urinating in our bags,
On what was left from our frightened bodies.
We are insulting those countries,
And spitting in one thousand and one towels.
But,
We are not leaving the train,
Even if we were able to stop it.

The Fire

You set fire on my wings,
And asked me to fly!
I tried,
thinking that the wind would set
the fire off.
But I found my wings would be divided,
I realized that I would not be able,
Neither to fly, nor to stay!

Biography

Ashraf Aboul-Yazid, poet, novelist, translator and journalist from Egypt. Author of more than 42 books of poetry, novels, biographies, criticism, children’s literature and translations. As a journalist, he worked in Egypt, Oman, Kuwait, Saudi Arabia and Korea. He works as the editor-in-chief of the Silk Road Literature Series in Egypt, the President of Asia Journalist Association and as the editor-in-chief of the Korean Arabic-language portal the AsiaN. He won Manhae Grand in Literature, , Korea, 2014, Arab Journalism Award in Culture, UAE 2015, Gold Medal if the Eurasian Literary Festival, Istanbul, 2021 and Sawiris Children Literature Award , Cairo, Egypt, 2023