إرحلي .. للشاعر وائل حسنين

قَصِيدَةُ (أَرْحَلي)

أَرْحَلي بَعِيدًا عَنَّي وَلَا تَتَعَلقي فِي شَخْصِيٌّ وَلَا تَقُولِي مَرَّةً أُخْرَي أَنِيك انْجَذَبَتْي إلَي أَوْ تُحِبَّينِي لَا تَنْظُرِي لِوَجْهِي الَّذِي يَتَصَنَّع الْفَرَح وَالْبَسْمَة وَلَا عَنْ حَيَاتِي وَجَرَحي مَعَ الْمَاضِي تَسْأَلِينِي.

أَنَا إِنْسَانٌ قَتَلَهُ الْحُبُّ يَوْمًا بِأَوْجَاعٍ لَا دَوَاءَ لَهَا وَحُبُّكِ هَذَا لَا يَسْتَطِيعُ أَنْ يُدَاوِيَنِي لَا تَدْخُلِي فِي صِرَاعٍ مَعَ أَحْزَانِي فَمَا زَالَتْ عُيُونِي غَارِقَة فِي بِحَارٍ مِنَ الدُّمُوعِ وَوَجَعِي وَآلَامُهُ تُبْكِيْنِي.

قَلْبِي تَمَزَّقَ مِنْ سِهَامِ الْغَدْرِ الَّتِي أَطْلَقَهَا قَوْسُ حَبِيبٍ أَحْبَبْتُهُ وَظَنَنْتُ أَنَّ الْحُبَّ سَوْفَ يُحْيِينِي فَوَجَدْتُ مَنْ وَهَبْتُهُ رُوحِي قَدْ دَفَعَنِي فِي بِئْرٍ مِنَ الْأَلَمِ لِيَقْتُلَنِي وَأَصَرَّ عَمْدًا وَتِكرَارًا أَنْ يُؤْذِيَنِي.

لَقَدْ فَقَدْتُ مَعْنَي الثَّقَةِ وَوُجُودَ الْوَفَاءِ بِالْحُبَّ وَمَشَاعِرُ الْحَنِينِ أَصْبَحَتْ مُجَرَّدَ كَلِمَاتٍ لَا تَعْنِينِي وَالْعِشْقُ وَجَدْتُةُ مُجَرَّدَ أَوْهَامٍ خَدَعَتْنِي وَقَدْ آمَنْتُ بِهَا يَوْمًا مَا وَكَتَبْتُهَا فِي أَشْعَارِي وَدَوَاوِينِي.

حِينَئِذٍ كَانَ شُعُورٌ جَمِيلٌ يَجْتَاحُ دَاخِلِي وَيَمْلَأُ فُؤَادِي اسْمُهُ الشَّوْقُ كَانَ بِلَهِيب نَارِهِ يَأْتِينِي وَيُحَرَّكُ وِجْدَانِي بِلَهْفَةٍ تَحْمِلُ إِحْسَاسًا صَادِقًا كَانَ يَغْمُرُنِي بِفَيْضِهِ مِنَ السَّعَادَةِ وَيَسْقِينِي.

وَرَسَمْتُ بِخَيَالِي جَنَّةً مِنَ النَّعِيمِ فِيهَا نَخِيلٌ وَأَشْجَارٌ أَعِيشُ فِيهَا مَعَ حَبِيبٍ كَانَ وُجُودُهُ يَكْفِينِي وَأَبْحَرْتُ بِسَفِينَةِ أَفْكَارِي فِي بِحَارٍ مِنَ الْأَحْلَامِ لٍعُمْرٍ طَوِيلٍ يَجْمَعُنَا وَالشَّيْبُ فِي مَلَامِحِي يَكْسُونِي.

لَكِنيَّ اسْتَيْقَظْتُ عَلَي كَابُوسٍ مِنْ جَحِيمِ الْفِرَاقِ وَأَزْمَةٍ أَصَابَتْنِي كَادَتْ تَقْضِي عَلَيَّ وَتُفْنِينِي وَوَجَدْتُ نَفْسِي وَحِيدًا أُصَارِعُ الذَّكْرَيَاتِ مَعَ عَقْلِي وَأَصْرُخُ وَلَا أَحَدَ يَسْمَعُ صُرَاخِي وَلَا يُوَاسِينِي.

وَالْآنَ أَصْبَحَ الْقَلْبُ كَالصَّخْرِ تَأْتِي إِلَيْهِ الْأَمْوَاجُ تَحْمِلُ الْحُبَّ وَتَصْطَدِمُ بِهِ فَلَا يَحِنُّ لِتَجْذُبِينِي فَمَا تَبَقَّي مِنْهُ غَيْرُ أَنْقَاضٍ وَحُطَامٍ لَا تَصْلُحُ لِلْحَيَاةِ دَاخِلَهَا فَالْوُرُودُ مَاتَتْ عَلَي الَأَغْصَانِ بِبَسَاتِينِي.

طِيرِي لِقَلْبٍ آخَرَ يَا أَيَّتُهَا الْفَرَاشَةُ الْجَمِيلَةُ فِي الْمَلَامِحِ فَأَنَا فَقِيرُ الْعَطَاءِ إِلَيْكِ فَاذْهَبِي وَانْسَيْنِي أَلْقِي لِقَاحَكِ هَذَا عَلَي زَهْرَةٍ أُخْرَي فَرَحِيقِي مَذَاقُةُ مُرٌّ لَا يَصْلُحُ لِإِطْعَامِكِ وَلَا لِشَرَابِكِ لِتَتَذَوَّقِينِي.

وائل حسنين.

(Leave) a poem

Stay away from me, don’t get attached to my personality and don’t ever say again that you are attracted to me or that you love me. Don’t look at my happy face. She asks me with a smile or about my life and my wounds with the past.

I am a person who was killed by love one day with pain that has no cure, and this love of yours cannot heal me. Do not enter into conflict with my sorrows. My eyes are still drowned in seas of tears, and my pain and pain make me cry.

My heart was torn by the arrows of treachery fired by the bow of a lover whom I loved and thought that love would revive me, so I found someone to gift it to. My soul pushed me into the well of pain to kill me and deliberately and repeatedly insisted on harming me.

I lost the meaning of trust and loyalty in love, and feelings of nostalgia became just words that did not concern me, and love and its novelty became just words. Illusions that deceived me, and I once believed in them and wrote them in my poems and books.

At that time, a beautiful feeling swept over me and filled my heart. Her name was longing. It was like the flame of her fire, coming to me and stirring my conscience with an eagerness that continued. A sincere feeling that filled me with an abundance of happiness and made me drink.

In my imagination, I painted a garden of bliss with palm trees and trees in which I lived with a lover whose presence was enough for me, and I sailed the ship of my thoughts on the seas of dreams for a long life that would bring us together, while gray hair covered my features.

But I woke up to a nightmare from the hell of separation and a crisis that befell me that almost killed and annihilated me, and I found myself alone, struggling. Memories are in my mind as I scream and no one hears my screams or comforts me.

Now the heart is like a rock. The waves come to her carrying love and collide with it. He does not yearn to attract me, for all that remains of it is rubble and debris that is not suitable for life inside him, just as the roses died on the branches in my gardens.

Fly to another heart, O butterfly with beautiful features, for I am poor in your giving, so go and forget me, throw this pollen on me, another flower, my nectar is bitter in taste and is not suitable for your food or drink so that you may taste me.

Wael Hassaneen.