Poetry International Poetry International
Poem

Mohammed Abu-Talib

Drink To The Prophet

Drink To The Prophet

Drink To The Prophet

On the Prophet’s image I saw them stomp,
Laughing, brawling , mocking, in all the pomp.


“Ramadan belongs to no modern world
“In which the rocket replaced the sword.”


Cocktail parties shook our festive customs;
Alien habits invaded thoughts and homes.


“Whisky alone- no ice,” the Muslim ordered.
The Christian neighbour looked and pondered:

“An Oulmes for me , doctor’s orders,
“The rest gives nothing but stomach ulcers.”


Round and round …popcorns , peanuts and chips…
Till heathen words conquered tongues and lips.


“Gin-tonic!” Another fasting believer.
“Coca-cola!” Another rotten kafer.


“Dinner’s served !” Announced hostess to her guests.
“Wine for grown-ups, milk for children and pets.”


“More rosé for me!” _ a women Muslim.
“More white wine for me !” begged another Muslim.

“Pure water for me!” insisted one pagan.
“More natural juice !” requested another Christian.


“Tell me …” started the Muslim’s neighbour .
“I know what you’d like to know,” interrupted with fervour

The fasting-drinking-pork-eating Muslim ,
“ ‘Why drink in fasting time while a Muslim?’”

“’ Cause I do as I please !’ Cause all is false.
“Religion’s for the old and the poor folks.

“ Practice hypocrisy when faith’s inside?
“ Were the Prophet here he’d surely not mind!”


The listener smiled, lifted his glass to toast
As if he’d won a game of which to boast:


_ “ Here’s to you and your Prophet’s tolerance!”
_ “ Here-s to you and my selfish ignorance!”
Close

Drink To The Prophet

On the Prophet’s image I saw them stomp,
Laughing, brawling , mocking, in all the pomp.


“Ramadan belongs to no modern world
“In which the rocket replaced the sword.”


Cocktail parties shook our festive customs;
Alien habits invaded thoughts and homes.


“Whisky alone- no ice,” the Muslim ordered.
The Christian neighbour looked and pondered:

“An Oulmes for me , doctor’s orders,
“The rest gives nothing but stomach ulcers.”


Round and round …popcorns , peanuts and chips…
Till heathen words conquered tongues and lips.


“Gin-tonic!” Another fasting believer.
“Coca-cola!” Another rotten kafer.


“Dinner’s served !” Announced hostess to her guests.
“Wine for grown-ups, milk for children and pets.”


“More rosé for me!” _ a women Muslim.
“More white wine for me !” begged another Muslim.

“Pure water for me!” insisted one pagan.
“More natural juice !” requested another Christian.


“Tell me …” started the Muslim’s neighbour .
“I know what you’d like to know,” interrupted with fervour

The fasting-drinking-pork-eating Muslim ,
“ ‘Why drink in fasting time while a Muslim?’”

“’ Cause I do as I please !’ Cause all is false.
“Religion’s for the old and the poor folks.

“ Practice hypocrisy when faith’s inside?
“ Were the Prophet here he’d surely not mind!”


The listener smiled, lifted his glass to toast
As if he’d won a game of which to boast:


_ “ Here’s to you and your Prophet’s tolerance!”
_ “ Here-s to you and my selfish ignorance!”

Drink To The Prophet

Sponsors
Gemeente Rotterdam
Nederlands Letterenfonds
Stichting Van Beuningen Peterich-fonds
Prins Bernhard cultuurfonds
Lira fonds
Versopolis
J.E. Jurriaanse
Gefinancierd door de Europese Unie
Elise Mathilde Fonds
Stichting Verzameling van Wijngaarden-Boot
Veerhuis
VDM
Partners
LantarenVenster – Verhalenhuis Belvédère