لبيتيَ سقفٌ
من أوراقِ الخريف،
من بينها تتلألأ النجوم
وفيها تبني أعشاشُها
عصافيرُ الربيع.
In my heart
a poem sleeps
that awakens only
at the quiver
of your touch
Life was inviting him
to write again
the quiver of that fire
that ignited in his heart
in his youthful years