Every now and then I look up and I know you’re looking down and smiling,
showing those big teeth of yours,
tapping me on the back,
calling me by my nickname,
teasing me..
You taught me, if you really love you should let go…
Ironic…But I can’t let go..
We heard you left happy..
We said we will reunite, ten years after.. All of us..
At our little green table…
So save a seat for me in heaven, my friend..
Borrowed from Jane Austen and Wystan Hugh Auden’s:
“…You tell me of his enormous capacity for joy. When joyful, when joyful for highly vocal drunkenness. But joyful is how I hope you'll remember him. Not stuck in a box and reduced to gray clay...”
"Stop all the clocks,
cut off the telephone.
Prevent the dog from barking with a juicy bone.
Silence the pianos and with muffled drum,
Bring out the coffin...
let the mourners come.
Let aeroplanes circle,
moaning overhead,
Scribbling on the sky the message:
He is Dead.
Put crepe bows 'round the necks of public doves,
Let traffic policemen wear black, cotton gloves.
He was my North, my South, my East, my West.
My working week and my Sunday rest.
My noon, my midnight, my talk, my song,
I thought love would last forever: I was wrong.
The stars are not wanted now,
put out every one.
Pack up the moon and dismantle the sun.
Pour out the ocean and sweep up the wood,
For nothing now can ever come to any good."
To Hussam...
We love you and always will...
Picture: Woods Hole, 2004
9 comments:
Amen. He IS unforgettable. a free spirit. you sent shivers down my spine.
i keep thinking about him today. i can't get his smile out of my head and the way he used to tease us girls. hope he's happy wherever he is.
beautifully expressed, Mirvat. I remember how he always seemed to love life and suddenly...shock! Very sad.
yes Rouba. i think we're all still in shock. it was very hard for us who were over here when it happened. it's still hard to talk about it.
i m sorry for your loss, all of you...
mirvat, ur words touch.. reach deep inside.
You just... do you remember when we spent 2 days on the phone when he was in the hospital... he is our suspended youth.
thanks nour.
yes gus. i remember talking to his mom. that was the hardest thing i ever had to do.
I feel like I'm intruding here, but who is it you're mourning?
A very close friend, Fouad.
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