Each time my car passes the lake
Where the ducks swim in the water amidst the verdure,
And I see children playing on swings amongst the flowers
Or running happily on the grass,
Feelings of longing engulf me
The film of memories plays back before my eyes
all over again ....
Your eager face, brimming with joy, comes to me from all directions,
And I see your tiny fist full of pieces of bread
As it flinges them into the water
And as the ducks race to catch them
Your sweet voice calls with childlike excitement
"Papa .... kuko.... Papa .... kuko...."
And the echo of your lisp sings happily
In unintelligible words, like the dialogue of birds..
Suddenly you are running at full speed towards the water
Towards the ducks ....
I run ....
And clutch your precious little body
And when it is firmly in my arms
I hug it fiercely
And shower it with burning kisses
Whilst you protest with pleas about the "kuko"
And finger pointing to the ducks
* * * *
O Wajd, if only you knew the longing
You would have realised that separation from loved ones
Was fire .... nay madness.