وقفي خلّي عيوني تكتفي | طلال مداح

دقت الساعة عشر

كل صبح لم ينوره سناك،هو ليل / طلال مداح

A man on his own in a car 
Is revenging himself on his wife; 
He open the throttle and bubbles with dottle
 and puffs at his pitiful life

She’s losing her looks very fast, 
she loses her temper all day;
 that lorry won’t let me get past,
 this Mini is blocking my way.

“Why can’t you step on it and shift her! 
I can’t go on crawling like this! 
At breakfast she said that she wished I was dead - 
Thank heavens we don’t have to kiss.

“I’ld like a nice blonde on my knee 
And one who won’t argue or nag.
 Who dares to come hooting at me? 
I only give way to a Jag.

“You’re barmy or plastered, I’ll pass you, you bastard - 
I will overtake you. I will!” 
As he clenches his pipe, his moment is ripe 
And the corner’s accepting its kill.

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My melody to Betjeman's words
x6
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- A30 road connects London with Cornwall (a favourite place for Betjeman)...and Land's End
- I thought 'dottle' was slang for spittle, but dictionary insists 'a remnant of tobacco left in a pipe after smoking'
- 'step on it' ie the accelerator peddle
- 'barmy or plastered' = mad or drunk (+ b-p repeat)
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https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poets/john-betjeman
John Betjeman, poet laureate of the United Kingdom from 1972 until his death in 1984, was known by many as a poet whose writing evoked a sense of nostalgia. He utilized traditional poetic forms, wrote with a light touch about public issues, celebrated classic architecture, and satirized much of contemporary society for his perception of its superficiality. “Modern ‘progress’ is anathema to him,” Jocelyn Brooke wrote in Ronald Firbank and John Betjeman prior to Betjeman’s death; “though fortunately for us [he] is still able to laugh.” Brooke continued, “Perhaps [Betjeman] can best be described as a writer who uses the medium of light verse for a serious purpose: not merely as a vehicle for satire or social commentary, but as a means of expressing a peculiar and specialized form of aesthetic emotion, in which nostalgia and humour are about equally blended.” 

1958’s Collected Poems first brought Betjeman into the popular limelight. Displaying the poet’s skilful use of 19th-century poetic models, the collection was enthusiastically received by many critics. A Times Literary Supplement reviewer, for example, stated...“ he is always attentive to the sound of his words, the run of his lines, the shape of his stanzas.” 
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https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/John_Betjeman
Sir John Betjeman, CBE (/ˈbɛtʃəmən/; 28 August 1906 – 19 May 1984) was an English poet, writer, and broadcaster. He was Poet Laureate from 1972 until his death. He was a founding member of The Victorian Society and a passionate defender of Victorian architecture, helping to save St Pancras railway station from demolition. He began his career as a journalist and ended it as one of the most popular British Poets Laureate and a much-loved figure on British television...

Betjeman's early schooling was at the local Byron House and Highgate School, where he was taught by poet T. S. Eliot... At Oxford, Betjeman made little use of the academic opportunities. His tutor, a young C. S. Lewis, regarded him as an "idle prig" and Betjeman in turn considered Lewis unfriendly, demanding, and uninspiring as a teacher... 

Betjeman's sexuality can best be described as bisexual. His longest and best documented relationships were with women...

He combined piety with a nagging uncertainty about the truth of Christianity. Unlike Thomas Hardy, who disbelieved in the truth of the Christmas story while hoping it might be so, Betjeman affirms his belief even while fearing it might be false…

Meditation on the A30 - John Betjeman  (in song)

مدري دريت - طلال مداح

طلال مداح


يا ضفائر شعرها

يــا ضـفـائـر شـعـرهـا .. طيحـي علـى صـدر القمـر
اجـرحـي صــدر القـمـر .. ارقدي فوق النجـوم الخضـر
ضيعـي بيـن حبـات المطـر .. واستريحي فوق اوراق الشجـر
اغسلـي ســوق الشـجـر .. اكتـبـي اسـمــي انـــا .. اعـصـري قلـبـي انـــا
آه يـــا قـلـبـي انـــا .. آه يــا مـذبـوح يـبـكـي .. فــوق اغـصـان الشـجـر 

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يـا زويـنـة يــا حـلاتـك .. يــوم ترخـيـن الـلـثـام
يـا حلاتـك يـوم صـوتـك .. العصفـور يشجـي بالـكـلام
يا حلاتك يوم تضوي بسمتـك .. يا حلاتك يوم تمسي بخطوتـك
يا حلاتك يوم جعـدك ينتشـر فـوق امتـانـك .. ويـرقـص مــا تطـيـقـه شيـلـتـك
يا حلاتك شمع زاهي في دروبي .. يا حلاتك فـي ليالـي غربتـي 

---

يوم تذرف دمعتي ماي النـوى .. يــوم يتعبـنـي بـجــوره في ليالي وحشتي حمل الجـوى
يا حلاتك يوم اشوفـك تلعبيـن .. في حدايـق وهمـي المفتـون
بالغايات والميعـاد والذكـرى .. واحــــوال الـسـنـيـن
يا حلاتك يوم اشوفـك تكتبيـن .. بالقلـم فـي دفتـر المجهـول
عــن حـبـي واتـعـابـي .. وعن وجدي واحزانـي وعنـي
ثـم عـن جرحـي وصبـري .. يـوم اقعـد فــي مكـانـي
بيـن كـل اللـي بجـراحـي .. بيـن كـل الـلـي مافيـنـي
يــا حيـاتـي صـابـريـن .. يــا ضفـايـر شـعـرهـا

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