Translation by: Bassam Khalil Frangieh
Secret of Fire
On the last day
I kissed her hands,
Her eyes / her lips.
I said to her: you are now
Ripe like an apple
Half of you: a woman
The other half: impossible to describe.
The words
Escaped me
And I escaped them
Both of us collapsed.
Now I pray
For the childhood of this light face
And for this ripe, burning body
I bring my face closer
To this gushing spring,
Thirsty.
On the last day, I said to her:
You are the fire of the forests
The water of the river
The secret of the fire
Half of you cannot be described
The other half: a priestess in the temple of Ishtar.
False Critics
The Rats of the fields of words
Buried the head of the poet
In a field of ashes
But the poet on the cross of exile
Carried the sun and flew
The Birth of Unborn Cities
I am born in unborn cities
But in the night of the autumn of the Arab cities
Broken hearted I die.
I bury my love in Granada
I say:
Nothing is victorious except love
I burn my poetry and die.
On the sidewalks of exile
I arise after death
To beborn inunborn cities
And to die..
