Samar my pretty, We will not forget you....

The birthday arrives,
On the date of her birthday, or,
Nineteen years ago,
A baby girl
Suddenly enters our lives.
What is left for us from her passage?
And what to make of this painful absence?
How to satisfy us with just that?
A date?
Only a date?
And of some memories which,
Like timid emanations of scents
And of disconcerting perfumes,
Escape from a charming garden,
A garden of semi-shade and semi-light,
Semi-freshness and semi-heat,
A garden where,
With the shelter of the flowers blooming,
Youth growths with the slender stems,
Stems sometimes smooth, sometimes thorny,
Rock with unconcern
Under the tenderized caresses of the zephyr,
And buttons full with promises carry proudly,
Promises of future blossoming,
Flowerings with delicate petals,
With the long-lived colors,
Daring, Radiant, Amusing;
Perfumed Memories which,
Evoke the sparkling heart
Of this young girl with the light step,
With the bright smile and crystal laughter,
With the warm voice and the deep glance,
This young girl
With the vast dreams and eternal friendships,
We remember the one
We loved like our own child,
This young one which makes us languish
And whose vibrating heart will haunt us always.
Samar, my child, we miss you.

Yasmine Fahim
(Translated by Qadar Al Ansari)