Translated by Abdul Monem Nasser
Edited by Mark Pirie
During the journey of no return from your love,
I was led by immense lanterns.
Buddha stopped me and handed me a book.
I opened it, and found myself opening gates leading to gates.
On each, I found carved your name spangled with your smile.
I found the ocean entreating you at a gate adorned by words.
I knew they were your poems that you always denied.
How, accidentally, they fell from your lips
each time you motioned to the jasmines
that would aspire to your breaths.
I had crossed an ocean (unnoticed),
so I trusted in your name.
At another gate, the gardens of Babylon kneeled,
reciting the psalms of its poets.
I crossed the psalms, leaving my voice in each psalm
and gathered a fragrance.
Fiery you had become, and your lovers were kerchiefs.
Many a gate had I counted when butterflies
began to shower me.
They had guarded you from your beauty.
Birds stood on their bills.
I tried avoiding the violets
which in one hand bore their sadness
and by the other waved to you.
The Hoopoe sung a dream into my ears
about a heavenly throne,
whose lights were blinding
and could unlock the hearts of your lovers.
In your presence all were entranced,
and pillars of light were ladders to your glorious throne.
Like an icon, its pearly star shone on the seven heavens,
behind which were seven other marvellous ones
where Buddha reclined.
His monks then led me to a dream.
From its sleeves, gardens of stars sparkled,
and cities ravaged me – each granting me to the other.
I was your captive. I bore the myrtle of my heart.
I crossed distances of passion and love paved by confusion.
The angels emplaced in furrows
made prayers reminding me of a river
that glided on the foreheads of dreams.
Dreams were wombs of meaning.
Dreams were yet another cloud to cross to you
while the flow of anxiety became my desire,
slipping past in a strain of reeds and mourning.
In this journey’s wilderness, I knew with certainty
that my destiny hung in your lips.
No boat may allow drowning to vanish.
I had no other way left than to give myself to you
that I might survive.
Edited by Mark Pirie
During the journey of no return from your love,
I was led by immense lanterns.
Buddha stopped me and handed me a book.
I opened it, and found myself opening gates leading to gates.
On each, I found carved your name spangled with your smile.
I found the ocean entreating you at a gate adorned by words.
I knew they were your poems that you always denied.
How, accidentally, they fell from your lips
each time you motioned to the jasmines
that would aspire to your breaths.
I had crossed an ocean (unnoticed),
so I trusted in your name.
At another gate, the gardens of Babylon kneeled,
reciting the psalms of its poets.
I crossed the psalms, leaving my voice in each psalm
and gathered a fragrance.
Fiery you had become, and your lovers were kerchiefs.
Many a gate had I counted when butterflies
began to shower me.
They had guarded you from your beauty.
Birds stood on their bills.
I tried avoiding the violets
which in one hand bore their sadness
and by the other waved to you.
The Hoopoe sung a dream into my ears
about a heavenly throne,
whose lights were blinding
and could unlock the hearts of your lovers.
In your presence all were entranced,
and pillars of light were ladders to your glorious throne.
Like an icon, its pearly star shone on the seven heavens,
behind which were seven other marvellous ones
where Buddha reclined.
His monks then led me to a dream.
From its sleeves, gardens of stars sparkled,
and cities ravaged me – each granting me to the other.
I was your captive. I bore the myrtle of my heart.
I crossed distances of passion and love paved by confusion.
The angels emplaced in furrows
made prayers reminding me of a river
that glided on the foreheads of dreams.
Dreams were wombs of meaning.
Dreams were yet another cloud to cross to you
while the flow of anxiety became my desire,
slipping past in a strain of reeds and mourning.
In this journey’s wilderness, I knew with certainty
that my destiny hung in your lips.
No boat may allow drowning to vanish.
I had no other way left than to give myself to you
that I might survive.
