Winter in Arabia
The Arab world they say would blossom and bloom
And its people reap a marvellous boom
When seedlings of the western thought
Would take root within those eastern people’s hearts.
The promised spring is still not yet
Instead we have a frigid season of ruin and regret
For the seed that is buried in the ground is lost
Because the soil is in a state of tundra and permafrost
The western version of true government
Is what the men and women of that sphere resent
For what the nations teach and live
The western tenet to them now cannot give.
Contrary to the western long held thought
The easterners’ dogma sinks deep within their hearts
And it does not matter what we westerners wish or think
To the easterners, the western dogma really stinks.
The notion that the West can plant its dogma
In lands like Iraq, Syria, Egypt and Libya
And watch it flourish on the graves of Saddam and Gadhafi
Is like a painted wall ruined by vulgar, vain graffiti.
Oh, look at the state of Syria now
How the keepers of the gate will not allow
The sowers of the western thought
To plant the western dogma in their people’s hearts
Western democracy, is not to them the charming flowers
Watered by the people’s sovereign will and powers
And deeply rooted in the rule of law
That bud and blossom without inherent flaws.
To them it is not some gracious wind of change
With favoured ratings on the spectrum’s range
That would inspire those who feel the wind
To immediately their tenet to rescind.
It is not to them the gentle rain
With showers of love and not disdain
That ushers in a perfect state of mind
All filled with virtues and is sublimely kind.
To them it’s not the all-pervasive bloom
The western doctrinaires presume
To be the sole illuminating guide to man
That must be taught across all spheres and land.
It is not to them the fresh and balmy breath
That pervades the land in width and length
Inspiring peace and love and joy
All void of some corrupting ploy.
The promised spring is still not yet
As winter holds its own across the arid stretch
And all and every current forecast
Predicts that winter in the east for now, will likely last.
The wars and overthrows have not spread peace
Across the ambit of the Middle East
And the will to spread the western thought
By forces in and out is brought to naught.
The ground the farmers sought to plow
The hands of circumstances their efforts disallow
And what is thought would be the reaper’s joy
Has turned out to be a thing that now annoys.
Ah, true the dream was for all the Middle East
To become a western duplicate at the very least
And that it would reflect the western ideal
And bear the western approval, stamp and seal.
So now the west must ask itself
If it’s time to put away upon some shelf
The plan to spread democracy’s dogma
In Iraq, Egypt, Syria and Libya.
And yet we never know what time can do
If the doctrinaires in zeal pursue
For what now seemed as though it would or would not
Might well in time become an arable lot.
