Yousif Yousif Ibrahim Abubaker Abdalla
Biography: Yousif Ibrahim Abubaker Abdalla was born on 9th of March 1986 in Khartoum - Sudan . People always call me (Shakespeare) he went to University of Juba- School of Arts and Humanities- Departmentof English Language. He works as a TEFL teacher, Author, Journalist, Activist, IELTS/TOEFL preparation trainer and Freelance interperter / Translator provides Arabic to English Translation, proofreading , editing, interperted multiple in person interview and workshops for the documentary. Highly acquainted with. political. economical , legal documents, technical phraseology to ensure correct Translation Reviewed and Translation of books . He's inspired poet from the country of exquisite natural beauty, ancient historical attractions and inhabitants well versed in the art of hospitality in central Africa beloved Sudan. He is fond of poetry writing about life and whole thing that happen to human kind, either good or bad. He has got the collection of poems that he writes in various issues: socio-cultural, lamentation, lyrical, narrative, political, love, friendship, pain, especial events of my life, , etc and environmental as well, he always publishes many articles and poems on Sindh Courier is an online news service in Karachi, Pakistan. He had have been worked as a debate leader discussing various topics in many English Institutes, centers, academy and schools over 10 years, and sometimes he helps foreigners who come to visit our state to work with them as a translator or trip guider also, he helps international business people communicate more effectively and comfortably in British English. He does this virtually as non a native speaker, he supports people gain the confidence needed to improve and master accent management is key to intelligibility and thus pronunciation training has become a primary focus of his personalized sessions. He focuses on helping my clients learn how english language system. He also can be reached at: americanslang64@gmail.com
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Yousif Yousif Ibrahim Abubaker Abdalla 's Profile

The Distress Of Wreck

The curtain has been torn.
The security has been lost.
The whistle of oppression left for a while the truism has been fading out of deceit.
Clutter and devastation meander the yards, Fright has chopped to defend the honor.
It has driven through dust storms and dozens of checkpoints restrained by jumpy fighters, Arriving at the ravaged city-state where the bloodshed eventuated, gunfire and mortars splashed into the valleys around chilling
Snipers huddle in the seaboard beneath a monstrous catwalk, blown up in battle, that downtrend into the river drones plummet over the rain, hunting for ground zero.
And an island at the bottom of the Nile,
A warplane brushed overhead and, across the Nile, an oily plume of smog rose spinning urban battle.
With the city in tumult, you slept in a dissipated roost, where a neighbor told of how a blast killed.
A noble city of glistening steep rises,
Oil wealth and five-star hotels lies in ashes.
Millions have fled.
A dearth snarl on the Nile Pushes.
The gold market is a graveyard of rubble and dog-eaten corpses were blown open in battle, its treasures now yellowing in the sun.
Gunnery shells glide over the Nile, splintering into sanatoriums and roofs.
The neck of the woods enshrines their dead outside their front gates.
In a hushed poverty ward, starving babies fight for life.  
A skull and dropped vines were diffused shabby streets.
There’s a chink in everything,
That’s how the light gleans in.
Thanksgiving gingerly for the sympathy we are pursuing over and over again.



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