Translated from the Arabic by Muhiddein Assaf
When you were with me
From God's hand slipped an apple of creation
To bathe in your verdant womanliness.
For you, the sun took off its clothes
To dip
And now by my revealing
And inspiration
Is the burning of distances
In the nakedness.
A cloud’s scream followed your shadow’s orgasm;
It is the lust of our emaciated days,
And the neighing of childhood
In the forest of soul.
We gather honey from your lips;
We say that our wish is exile - it has the ember's favour.
The twilight’s hymn hangs on your shoulders,
The pant of shining on your cheek.
Yet, who teaches the sea that the Arabian jasmine glorifies?
It is my madness!
And it holds a kindly reception in your eternal woods.
Here our gypsy journey begins behind your shadows -
All your shadows are high;
The daze of dew in your virgin innocence
Is the happiness of the sparrow's morning song.
O my Love…
My pain is flourishing, and my life is dry
And on your Narcissus coast my suppositions are sleeping.
Dropping my life in your palms,
My flask is the star,
And my poetry flows in you.
Inadvertently,
I lose the way;
Fragrances become angels
To gratify you,
And each compass points to you.
You are the springs of our coming dreams.
Horizon is sinking in you,
And the roses are swimming between your luxurious tips.
O, my beloved …
How many times have I ploughed skies
So that my heart will cross your high walls?
I addict your love secretly.
I pray publicly
Strewing in your hard path
My song and devotion
And the dew sees
Snow teasing your heart
And at the end of night
The tears are my friends.
Let me praise your rivers, even though they lie confused.
My grief grows longer with your laugh.
The passion explodes with your eternal anguish,
And remembrance calls me with its enamouring downpour.
And yet I say: Why do I love you?
How have you left the windows perplexed?
It seems a desirable yearning seduced them,
Revolving around filling with grief,
And this Eastern champion
Has the scent of dates -
Much like an Iraqi song of my mother's at the southern,
Frenzied evening.
Now, the Henna of my days awakens on your tangled hair.
Between my ribs
A poem purifies in pilgrimage at your door.
You, the utmost of my worries -
An insomnia wears my insomnia -
And my adoration is a country of desire.
Fields of dreams and myrtle
Sleep on your brows,
And candles sting the bleeding from our hopes:
Why do I love you?
You, my love
are unified
by women …
stormy women!
When you were with me
From God's hand slipped an apple of creation
To bathe in your verdant womanliness.
For you, the sun took off its clothes
To dip
And now by my revealing
And inspiration
Is the burning of distances
In the nakedness.
A cloud’s scream followed your shadow’s orgasm;
It is the lust of our emaciated days,
And the neighing of childhood
In the forest of soul.
We gather honey from your lips;
We say that our wish is exile - it has the ember's favour.
The twilight’s hymn hangs on your shoulders,
The pant of shining on your cheek.
Yet, who teaches the sea that the Arabian jasmine glorifies?
It is my madness!
And it holds a kindly reception in your eternal woods.
Here our gypsy journey begins behind your shadows -
All your shadows are high;
The daze of dew in your virgin innocence
Is the happiness of the sparrow's morning song.
O my Love…
My pain is flourishing, and my life is dry
And on your Narcissus coast my suppositions are sleeping.
Dropping my life in your palms,
My flask is the star,
And my poetry flows in you.
Inadvertently,
I lose the way;
Fragrances become angels
To gratify you,
And each compass points to you.
You are the springs of our coming dreams.
Horizon is sinking in you,
And the roses are swimming between your luxurious tips.
O, my beloved …
How many times have I ploughed skies
So that my heart will cross your high walls?
I addict your love secretly.
I pray publicly
Strewing in your hard path
My song and devotion
And the dew sees
Snow teasing your heart
And at the end of night
The tears are my friends.
Let me praise your rivers, even though they lie confused.
My grief grows longer with your laugh.
The passion explodes with your eternal anguish,
And remembrance calls me with its enamouring downpour.
And yet I say: Why do I love you?
How have you left the windows perplexed?
It seems a desirable yearning seduced them,
Revolving around filling with grief,
And this Eastern champion
Has the scent of dates -
Much like an Iraqi song of my mother's at the southern,
Frenzied evening.
Now, the Henna of my days awakens on your tangled hair.
Between my ribs
A poem purifies in pilgrimage at your door.
You, the utmost of my worries -
An insomnia wears my insomnia -
And my adoration is a country of desire.
Fields of dreams and myrtle
Sleep on your brows,
And candles sting the bleeding from our hopes:
Why do I love you?
You, my love
are unified
by women …
stormy women!
