A Long Held Promise

From a distance
I watch the crows land
on the top of the trees,
the sky, behind them,
taking on a clear blue light
as morning rises
full of softness and dew,
over the sea a bank
of autumn clouds is moving
bringing with it a long held promise,
my soul, watching, fills with stillness,
and a prayer begins again
in the silence of my heart.

Free Verse # 456 (this solitude)

Poetry,
my one faithful love,
the only one who keeps
watch over me
and waits
and waits
to touch my face
and fill my heart.

~

Not just the earth,
touched by autumn’s rain
even this longing
exudes poetry

~

The moon’s light dissolves
all memories
of past and future,
and ties everything
in a silent knot
that whispers: “now.”
Nothing exists
outside this moment,
nothing lives
outside your heart.

~

Je t’aime, il lui a dit,
chaque jour au lever du matin,
chaque jour au coucher du soleil.

أحبكِ، قالها لها،
كل يوم عند طلوع الضوء،
كل يوم عند مغيب الشمس.

~

In the end, logic is the death of man; it’s where the poetry in his soul goes to die.

~

For a poet, it is enough, in this world, to have a little corner in which to sit with a book, a desk and some paper, to read and write to the light of a candle, lit by the impassioned flame of longing.

~

There are many who preach hate in the name of love.

كثيرون هم من يبشرون بالحقد باسم الحب.

~

I value a heart by how much longing it is capable of holding.

~

My life – I measure it in moments of poetry.

~

This solitude – without it I would not recognize my face.

Haiku # 701

Autumn
one leaf then another
falls in the wind

الخريف
ورقة ثم أخرى
تقع في الريح

~

September
through the woods I take
the long way home

~

September
you’ll find my heart buried
in a pile of yellow leaves

~

I breathe her in
as though her skin
is the light of the moon

~

Autumn evening
my thoughts drifting
with the passing clouds

~

Deep in the forest
I find my heart still
like the air and leaves

~

Forever is just a word
between us
and the moon

~

الخريفُ يبدأ
برائحةِ الأرض أُعَطَّر
زوايا روحي

~

هو يحب النساء اللواتي
يعرفن كيف يتحولن إلى شعر
بين يديه

Haiku # 700

Without a name
I go alone…
winds of autumn

Sans nom
je vais tout seul
sous le vent d’automne

~

Autumn evening…
the smell of a flower blooming
on the edge of my days

~

Autumn evening…
this loneliness deepens
with the colors of the sky

~

Her smile…
something to take with me
on the long journey

ابتسامتها
شيء لآخذه معي
في رحلتي الطويلة

~

Réunissant nos âmes
l’amour fusionne nos corps
en un seul poème

Haiku # 699

Last stand of August
amid the passing clouds
a waning moon

~

Not her skin
it undresses her feelings
moon in the sky

ليسَ بَشَرَتِها
هو يُعَرّي مَشاعِرَها
القَمَرْ في السَماء

~

Sleep can wait
another minute to gaze
at the silent moon

~

The trail of kisses he left
at night she feels it
burning on her skin

~

كلما صمتّ
قليلاً سمعته في قلبي
حفيف الذكريات

~

المرأة التي أحبّ
على بشرتها أخطّ
قصائد روحي

~

هذه الوحدة
بدونها لكنت وجهاً
آخر يمشي معِ الحشودْ

Free Verse # 455 (Naufragé du monde moderne)

Nudity is just another veil.

~

Naufragé du monde moderne, j’ai pris refuge sous le ciel de la poésie.

~

Longing – a word filled with endless distances.

~

رحلةُ الشِعرِ هذِهِ لعلّها لا شيءٌ آخر غير البحث عن لمسةِ امرأة.

This journey of poetry – perhaps it was nothing more than a search for a woman’s caress.

~

معطرٌ بأنفاسها
الدخان من فمها يصعد
ليملأ الغرفة
بحجابٍ رقيق
من الرغبة

~

In his heart
he feels her beauty
transformed into an ink
that he longs to write back
on the pages of her skin

~

Jalouse
une à une
elle empreinte ses baisers
en touchant les lèvres
au bout de ses poèmes

~

Early morning,
the sound of a rooster
crowing in the distance,
the wind stirring in the tall trees
as a bird softly sings,
your head resting on my belly
with my fingers running
through your black hair.
If happiness ever was
it is this moment.

Haiku # 698

Unfinished poem…
at dusk I sit watching
a leaf in the wind

~

Loneliness –
without it I’d be
just a face in the crowd

~

Moonflower
her body in my bed
burning softly

~

Sous la lune d’été
sa peau nue sauf
de la chaleur de ses baisers

تحت ضوء القمر
بشرتها العارية الا
من حرارة قبلاته

Summer moon…
her bare skin covered
in the warmth of his kiss

Haiku # 697

Poème inachevé…
tremblant je quitterais la vie,
une feuille d’automne…

~

من عُطرِكِ عرفتُ اسمِكِ
لا أقولُهُ ولكني
أحفظَهُ في داخلي

~

From your fragrance
I knew your name
I don’t say it
but safe keep it
deep in my heart

~

في حفنة تراب
كم من دمعة وابتسامة
بعثرها الزمن؟

In a handful of dirt
how many smiles and tears
scattered by time?

Free Verse # 454 (a trail of leaves)

أعاني من الأرق لأن نار وجهك تسكن أحلامي.

~

It is her fragrance
that sets the garden
into motion,
she walks in
and everything is alive
with light and love.

~

Unrecognized, our desires come to haunt us in the night.

~

Night does not exist in the city except as an anomaly.

~

This poetry
a trail of leaves
that I follow
deep into the forests
of my childhood,
into the deserts
and high mountains
of my longing,
reminding me of who I am
and who I want to be.

~

Wrapped up in his arms
she unwinds her day,
her breath and thoughts slowing down,
his embrace filling her
with safety and warmth,
as the world outside fades
and a single star shines
from the quietness of their belonging.

~

الحب هو وليد اللحظة، أما الصداقة فتبنى.

Love is the child of the moment, but friendship is built through time.

Free Verse # 453 (a small poem)

Without them knowing
all the poets and painters
borrow from your beauty
to write and paint

~

Night falls
In the darkness
I feel myself being lowered
into a place of light

~

I begin every day with a small poem, and that is the little sun I plant inside my heart to accompany me throughout the day, that is my little prayer, my conversation with God.

I began by seeing her with my eyes, then I saw her with my heart.

It is the kindness that I love most in a face.

My woman has a body made of poems; I unravel her by delving into the waters of her mystery.

~

أكتب
كأنني امرر أصابعي ببطئ
فوق تعاريج بشرتك،
كأنني أتنشق رائحة شعرك
في صباحٍ خريفي.

~

When I am alone and silent
I find your face floating
to the surface of my heart
like a gentle wave of light

~

Though I’ve only known it
through the grace of poetry
your touch has pronounced
a holy utterance in me
turning my heart into a chapel
and a place of worship
filled with the fire of your love

These Poems

These poems, I write them
so I would not forget
how you taste like,
how you smell,
how simply seeing you
fills my heart with light.

These poems are doors
I keep going through,
doors opening to rooms
filled with endless skies,
rooms where you have just left
as I walked in
leaving only your scent
and a letter or two.

These poems remind me
of the stain of your lipstick
on the wine glass from that night
that we laughed and shared our silence
and looked into each other’s eyes
and knew.

These poems are my heartbeats
caught in a capsule
and carried by the waves
always towards you,
but you are the sea
and you are the waves
and the shore beyond is you.

These poems always say
one and the same thing,
“there is no place left in me
for being and non-being,
I am all-being, in you.”

These poems always say the same thing
though each time
a little stronger and more deeply,
these poems say, “I love you.”

Haiku # 693

بنيتُ لكِ في قلبي
كنيسةً صغيرة
ملأى باسمِكِ

~

In my heart
I built a small chapel
filled with your name

~

Her deep eyes
a perfect day
to fall in love

~

ما أحبَّ الرجلُ امرأةً إلا ولمسَ الشعرُ قلبهُ.

~

أنظرُ في عينيها
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أزهارُ بشَرتِها