Birthday Call
written by: Amira Waleed
A ladybug woke me up
Saying we gotta make the room
And hold a golden party at noon
The ladybug pulled me out of bed
Saying there will be nothing to regret
I told her I’m of no use
I lost my fire, night moon and muse
Should I speak an honest tongue
For him to hear my same old song?
I’d use mi amor, mon amour, but never habibi
And I’d still be honest, believe me
“Speaking to the mirror again?”
My ladybug complained
She set up every piece of decor
And gave me the phone
I hear your voice, sense your cologne
“Somewhere down the road
I have no idea where you are
Just hoping your wind is not tough
And wishing you a happy birthday,
Love.”
NOTE FROM THE AUTHOR:
The poem delves into the challenge of expressing one’s deepest emotions in a mother tongue. In this case where we have an Arab speaker, “habibi,” a term of endearment meaning “my love,” carries a weight of affection and intimacy that foreign romantic words simply cannot match. Hence, it takes the most pain and vulnerability to be used.
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