hello, my name is Iqbal alSharif, I'm Arabic instructor to non native speakers i have a certificate from Jordan university in Methods of Teaching Arabic to non native speakers and another certificate from Istanbul Institute of Languages. I am a Native Arabic speaker and speak English too, with experience in teaching students from all around the world. My teaching experience have allowed me to learn so much about different cultures. My students come from Turkey, China, USA, Macedonia, Pakistan, Australia and France. Together, we can practice : · Conversational Speech and Pronunciation · listening · Reading · Writing i use zoom meeting program to teaching Arabic. I am in Jordan standard time +3 UTC. I am very flexible with my time, so please send me a message with your available date and time and the country where you are currently living. Also, please tell me what you will like to practice and I will have
I do not know the stranger
I do not know the stranger, nor his accomplishments…
I saw a funeral, so I walked behind the coffin,
like the others, bowing my head in respect.
I found no reason to ask: who is this stranger?
Where did he live, and how did he die,
because the causes of death are many,
one of which is the pain of life.
I asked myself: does he see us,
or does he see nothingness and regrets the end?
I knew he would not open the coffin that’s covered
with lavender
to bid us farewell and thank us and mutter the truth.
What is the truth?
Perhaps he is like us in these moments,
folding his shadow.
But he is the only one who did not cry this morning,
and did not see the death that is flying over
us like a hawk…
The living are the cousins of death,
and the dead are sleeping
quietly and quietly and quietly.
And I found no reason to ask:
Who is this stranger and what is his name.
No sparkles shine in his name.
The march behind him was 20 people,
except me.
And I became lost in my heart in front of the
church doors:
Perhaps he is a writer, or a laborer, or a refugee
or a thief or a murderer… No difference,
we are all equal in front of death…
They don’t talk,
and perhaps, they don’t dream.
This stranger’s funeral could be mine,
but a divine matter is postponing it
for many reasons,
one of which is: a big mistake in the poem!