Haiku # 635

Spring Poppy, Photography by Pierre Mhanna

Vêtue d’amour
la rosée de son souffle
choyant ses joues


Clothed by love
the dewdrops of his breath
caressing her cheeks


Wandering Thought # 87

A poet is one who feels and intuits the infinite in the finite, and this from the deepest elevations of his spirit and soul.


Poets and people in whom the spirit is rich and abundant face the danger of feeling excluded and guilty on account of that which makes them rich and unique — because it also excludes them from the company of people and society, and makes the space around them so great that very few could hope or want to traverse it. Learning the usual social skills is doubly more difficult for such people, because, at first sight, it feels for them as though it is a betrayal of the spirit in them, of their uniqueness and idiosyncrasy. But that is necessary if they hope one day to become more than just poets and spiritually rich people — human beings who are full of light and mastery, conquerors of the inner realms and of their lives, a light unto humanity, and also, simply, genuinely and deeply happy people, people whose ability for joy and fulfillment is so much greater than their normal kin could ever fathom or understand.

لغز عينيك

الاعين نوافذ الروح؛
وأنا عندما نظرت في عينيها
ماذا رأيت؟
ما هذا البحر الذي يستهويني؟
يغرقني ليحييني؟
يغرقني ليجعلني كالطير
. المسافر في فضاء روحها
 ايا امرأة من نار ونور
، اروي عطشي من ماء عينيك
أحسي بجناحي داخل صدرك
. يرسمان سماء بلون عينيك
في داخلي نار عشق لا تنطفئ
. لمعرفة لغز عينيك


حتى أشعر بدفئك
يتغلغل في صدري
غامرا قلبي
،متدفقا في عروقي
وآخذك في داخلي
كأن حياتك وحياتي
وروحك وروحي
قد التحما
 فلم نعد ندري
،من أنا ومن أنت
وبين أحضاني
أشعر بك
،نورا يذوب فيي
ولا أريد لهذا العناق
.ان ينتهي