A poem by the Saudi poet Nasser bin Muhammad bin Fares Al-Faraana Al-Subaie, from Rania Governorate, born in the year 1397 AH. He participated in the Million’s Poet competition in the second edition, and won fifth second place. I leave you with the text of his poem (My Camel, Oh My Camel).
My camel, my camel, for quarters and lasdis
My father prayed to me behind this bait
Hail, the fourth year of the choice of Ais Ais
Its sophistication is felt, but it is felt by fire
In the empty darkness, there are no senses and no senses
From the severity of the cold, you feel the crackling of your teeth
In my eyes, the bird flies and the prey flies
Jassas got up without his aunt Al-Basous
And in my heart is a female elf’s chick, which has a molar
The day it began with obsession and when it came out with obsession
My house is the house of Ibn Dhari and Ibn Ghathlam Jaris
Deira Elly Dojoa in Fiafi Najd Jos
My daughter, you have an old man and precious metal
Aitamos Without her, you covered me Aitamos
Jadla hammered her body with the western Yamis
Clay from the soil of a mole and contaminated with blood
I engraved five of the five on Thursday
I wish my poetry hadn't meant this, Dakhtenous
How he wished he had someone like her, a temptation like that
Half of our nation could have been overturned by the Magi
Be kind to a church or a synagogue
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I curve with the curve of its sides and I measure
Two domes around an arc, an arc next to an arc
Her waist tells us the reality of the miserable people
Her response to Bush's arrogance gives us lessons
Despite her short stature, no one sat with her
She becomes the tallest sitting woman on Earth
The bride only wants a Turkish groom
The bride, we find Mahib, may God live, a bride
Najd Bint Al-Majd and Nassa Munsa Al-Wanis
She is only a comforter who sacrificed the frowning day
All the people of Najd Hali from Ija to Thursday
In their arms, seeking the drying of the roots
And my life is between lions, even if I am not a president
(Better than being a ruler on a mountain of goats)
It is not a shame if he deceives me with his cunning
Because only the obsessed can understand the cunning of obsession
Mustafa at his uncle Pope Louis' banquet
The mouth grew larger under the light of the red cups
Its sharpness was engraved on the Wailing Wall
The day the daughter of Afar Shamos tore her dress
The lady of the palace's first name is Lamis
Without it, throats would be cut off by the edge of a razor
Qaissa for their freedom. Qais. Qais. Qais. Qais
And part of their humiliation, I dressed them in all kinds of clothing
Between the trick of Achilles' heel and the birth of Adonis
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What did the people of Suez find from the Suez Canal?
What did they meet from Tlemcen, people from Senous?
They all left Khandris from extreme hunger
Between a drugged coma and a licorice awakening
A revolution caused by the bus
What can we do about it when it only shakes the roots?
A person's misfortune is two thousand cups and one bag of love
And the souls I wanted to know, throw away the money
The falsity of the slogans is exposed to a fever pitch
The tails return to the tails, and the Russians remain Russians
It is true that the Arabs say that nothing happens except the vile
The Russians do not suffer from anything like weakness of spirit
