Tanka # 175

كهمس الأوراق
خيال وجهها وهو يمرّ
بين حروف القصيدة،
تاركاً، في سماءها
خيوط فجرٍ أبيض كالماء


To write her name
in the form of a poem
and feel in it moving
all the swirling eddies
in the oceans of the world


Her dark hair
a rain of fire
flooded across my belly
and moving insatiably
to the rhythm of her head


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