This November

This November
I want to be a wild field
feeling into my bones
the surge of autumn,
surrendering and letting it all
fall down into the ground
to be cradled in darkness,
to know the meaning of long rest
and unperturbed sleep.

This November I want to go
deep down into my roots
to be acquainted again
with the nature of my being,
the stranger’s face, which is my face,
the face that I once loved
and must learn to love again.

This November I will let the summer wine
brew deep in my veins
with the warmth of its sun,
I will let my dreams
carry me over to the other plain
where spring arrives
with new wildflowers and fruits
and a renewed thirst for life
taking me to the edge of all that I am.

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Haiku # 722

Autumn begins…
lying in the grass I guess
the shape of the clouds

لوجودها في حياتي
رائحة الأرض العطشى
بعد مطر الخريف

للذكريات حفيف
أنصت إليها وأنا أتأمّل
تساقط أوراق الخريف

You speak my heart better
than all their words…
moon in the sky

Looking at her hurts…
so much love
I can not speak

First days of autumn…
writing poetry
to the light of the moon

My heart melts
with infinite softness
as I look at you

Though apart
between us a thread
weaved by the moon

Autumn begins
and my heart wanders
in dreams of endless white

Summer evening
what the stars whisper
I hear in my heart

‏هذا الشعر
ضوءُ شمعةٍ بهِ أتلمَّس
تفاصيلَ وجهكِ

Kissing Her Neck

Like fresh morning dew
my kisses sink into her neck,
from her chin down
to the hollow above her chest,
going around to her collarbones,
then to her nape at the back
as I lift her dark hair,
falling slowly to the expanse
between her shoulder blades…

…my kisses circle her neck
like a Sufi turns
ecstatic and feverish,
lost in prayer
as with each turn
he falls deeper
lost in God.

Haiku # 721

‏قصيدةٌ غيرُ مُنتَهية…
مرتجِفاً كورقة خريف
سأتركُ هذا العالم

‏حرُّ الصيف
لا يدفئ عظامي
التي تتوقُ اليكِ

This life is a dream…
opening our eyes
the fog dissipates
into an endless white

‏الحياةُ حلم
نفتح عينينا ليتبدد الضباب
على نورٍ لامتناهي

‏هذهِ الكلمات
قصيدةٌ صداها
يعودُ إليَّ فقط

Haiku # 720

‏القمرُ في النافذة
ضوءهُ يُعيدُني
إلى بيتِ الطفولة

À l’abri du monde
mon cœur est un bourgeon
sa fleur un poème

‏من نافذةِ المكتب
أُراقبُ عصافير الحقل
كم هي حرّة وسعيدة‏

‏المعبدِ القديم
أحجارهُ أزهارَ لوزٍ
تناثرت في الريح

‏وحيداً عند المساء
منصتاً للصمت
الذي يلفُّ أيامي

‏صمتُ الظهيرة
أستمعُ لزيزِ الصيف
وأنتظٍرُ الخريف

‏حرٌّ لاهب
أُحاول أن أقرأ
وأنا أمسح عرقي

‏‏في صومعتي
أقرأ وأكتب
منتظراً ظهور القمر

‏الأيامُ التي مرّت
وتساقطت كأوراق الخريف
ما زالت تلمعُ أحياناً
تحتَ ضوءِ القمر

‏قلبيَ الضائع
عصفورٌ أرسلتهُ
إليكِ

مهما فعلت بك الحياة
لا تهمل قلبكَ
وتنسى أنكَ شاعر



Haiku # 719

‏سبعُ سنينٍ يا أُختي
ما زِلتُ أبكي كلما
رأَيتُكِ في حُلُمي

‏حُبُْها في قلبي
برعمٍ أبيض نضِر
مكسوٍ بحبيبات الندى

‏قصيدة الهايكو
وحدها تنصت
إلى سكونِ روحي

‏خفيفٌ كالغيم مرورَكِ
لكنَّهُ يجعَلَني أَحلُم
بما وراءَ الجبال

Free Verse # 461 (one moment with you)

أجلُسُ وحيداً معكِ ولو كانَ بيننا ألفُ شخضٍ وشخص.

~

You pull me up when the whole world is pulling me down, and that is enough.

~

Rien ne réchauffe sans amour.

~

نحنُ دائماً مُغَلَفين بِأنفُسِنا.

~

قليل من الشعر ليروي عطش الليل.

~

Everyday
life flows a little more
into my veins
at the thought of touching you…
this life becomes fire
and has the name of poetry

~

In my dreams I wander
solitary as the moon,
only her eyes call me on and on
to hidden horizons,
to poetry, to wine,
to madness,
to a love so great
it tears open
the whole sky.

~

Though I come
with a laden heart,
one moment with you
empties me
of all my burdens.

~

Light touching her skin
A halo of poetry

~

When I touch you
even in thought
I am relieved
from that dreadful weight
pressing on my chest

~

Stripped bare
by this music;
a leaf
left trembling
in the passing wind.

~

Between his hands
her body swayed…
a violin aching
to weep
the sweetest music

~

The kiss he plucked from her mouth
a ripe fruit, red and bitter sweet,
filled with so much longing that
a tremor traveled between them
shaking the old fault lines and roots
and shaping them anew,
forged along the outlines
of their merging bodies.

Haiku # 717

النمَش على بشَرَتِها
خريطةٌ إن تَبِعتها
وَصَلتَ إلى النُجومْ

The freckles on her skin
a map guiding you
to the endless stars

~

كلّ من قرأ قصيدتي
تنشقَ قليلاً
من عطر حبيبتي

~

Gazing at the stars
for a moment I remember
my true name

متأملاً النجوم
للحظةٍ تذكرت
اسميَ الأول

~

عصفور الفجر
من نافذة إلى نافذة
ينشر الفرح بأغنيته

~

Lost in my book
through its clouds I glimpse
the hills of her body

Lost in my book
I navigate the stars
strewn across her body

Walking To You

Walking to you
I lose count of the distance
as miles laps
into endless miles,
I lose count of the time
as days swiftly turn
to months, to years,
everything becomes
background and echo
and only you remain,
you, love, the focal point
around which all time and space
spin and converge,
you, the expansion in my heart,
giving my life
freedom and meaning,
filling each moment
with peace and ecstasy,
teaching me to live this poetry…

Pierre Mhanna

Haiku # 716

With poetry
I water the days
of my life

~

وحديَ في الليل
على ضوءِ الشمعةِ أكتُب
لامرأةٍ لا أعرِفُها

~

وحيداً تحتَ المَطر
منتظراً يدكِ
لتلاقي يدي

Seul sous la pluie
attendant ta main
pour rejoindre la mienne

~

Winter morning…
in the warm sunlight
a cat cleans itself

~

Spring morning
even the crows
caw happily

Everywhere I Look

Everywhere I look
I see people living
with borrowed faces,
their lives borrowed
and their souls,
speaking borrowed words
and craving feelings
that are not their own.
Everywhere I look
I see pettiness
and people dying
for an hour’s fame;
everywhere I look
I see addicts
and people enslaved
to their little phones.
I look around and I see
that the zombie apocalypse
so much prophesied
has already happened,
it is nothing more
than the regular individual
filled to saturation
with a content
that is not his own.

Free Verse # 460 (forgotten by the years)

Like the sun,
like a candle,
like fog,
like the waves,
like birdsongs,
like silence,
your face
as I hold it
inside my heart.

~

This poetry,
I labor to make beauty
hoping that one day
it will touch your eyes.

~

You and me
in a cabin
by a forest lake,
counting the leaves
as they fall,
forgotten by the years.

~

Perhaps I knew you
in another life,
for when I think of you
my spirit moves like water
and sunlight becomes
the face of my soul.

~

In my memory
I run through the fields
of my childhood
with the summer sun
warm on my face

~

Winter day…
in the distance
I hear your voice
rolling with the clouds

When I think of you…

When I think back of your suffering,
of the images and moments
that never leave me,
when I remember the questions
that in your pain you asked,
why me? What wrong have I done?
When I see your eyes again,
and the look in them
as you saw your life
which you loved so much
crumble before you and slip away
although you wanted it to stay
with all your heart.
When I feel how year after year
you grasped at us and at life
with every bit of strength and hope
you had in your loving heart,
and your words of not wanting to die
and leave us still ringing in my ears
as your tears rolled down
as I held you and tried to comfort you,
telling you it won’t happen,
that we’ll find a way.
When I think of your strength
and faith and patience
and how you dealt with it all
blow after blow,
and how after each storm of pain and tears
you were laughing again
and trying to manage and elevate yourself
and embrace life with whatever you had.
When I think of that time I told you
that it should’ve been me, not you,
and you told me not say that
because you were stronger than me.
When I think of your unborn daughters,
the ones we told you you’ll have,
and that time on your deathbed
when you asked me if one day
I’ll name my daughter after you, Sarah.
When I think of time of our childhood
when we played in the fields
by the cemetery where you’re now buried,
and all the times we frequented
the river and mountain
surrounding that place,
never thinking for a moment
that me or you can one day lay there,
at least not before old age.
When I think of my life without you,
how, still, I am not finding a way to move on,
how I’ll never see you again,
not once, not ever,
how you will be missing from all
the events of my life…

When I think of you after all these years
you tell me that life must go on
and the poem must be finished,
you tell me to finish all the paintings
you wanted to create,
you tell me to be this love.

I smile and I kiss you.
I love you with all my heart.

Free Verse # 459 (كل ضجيج العالم)

كل ضجيج العالم يتلاشى عندما أسمع صوتك.

~

هي قصيدةٌ مكتوبةٌ بلغة
أرغبُ أن أُمضي حياتي
وأنا أُترجمها

~

في هذا العالم المجنون
يبقى حُبُنا ملاذُنا الآمِن،
فيهِ نكون نوعاً آخَرَ من الجنون،
فيهِ نكون أنا أنا وأنتِ أنتِ.

~

أكتبُ
كأنّ قصيدتي تتلمَّس
دفءَ بَشَرَتِها

~

قُبلتَها
كلما مرّ لساني على شفتي،
أحسستُ بطعمها،
نبيذٌ أحمر، نارٌ، شعر،
كأن روحي قد ثملت
وهي تشرب من روحها.