Free Verse # 437 (la femme que j’aime)

أمام عينيها
صمتت أشعاري
ولم يبق من قلبي
الا شعلة ترتجف
لهمسة، للقاء

~

استودعني الشوق
رحم القصيدة
وهناك بقيت ملتحفاً
بصمت الكلمات
منتظراً الفجر
ليأتي من وجهك

~

قصيدتي خصلة
في شعرها الاسود
تارة تتمايل
كالنسيم على خدها
 تارة تنام
كالطفل على كتفها
 تارة بين عينيها
تغرف لقلبي
حياة من انفاسها

~

Not with my eyes, I see her with my heart.

~

Tired of books and of reading
my heart burns with one desire –
to gaze and gaze deeply
into the sea of her eyes

~

She is gone –
still, I’ll carry her light
deep in my heart,
I’ll remember her face
when I gaze into
the eyes of another,
I’ll feel her breath
warming my heart
on solitary nights.

She is gone
and this pain I am left with
will one day blossom
into a red rose
like the one she loves.

~

What are they good for
my books
if I don’t have your eyes
to drink from and
night after night quench
the fire in my heart?

~

كل كتبي
ما الفائدة منها ان لم استطع
ان اشرب من عينيك
لاروي العطش المحترق
في داخل قلبي

~

A la femme que j’aime…
Le regard de tes yeux
achève le poème de ma vie,
le poème que je n’écrirai jamais
mais que je vivrai avec toi.

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Thank you for the pain, Love

This pain you gave me
as you left I’ll take
as a parting gift,
I’ll cherish it, nurture it,
and grow it in my heart
until I am strong again,
stronger than I was,
until my depth as a man
through this pain is expanded,
until I can, at last,
give the pain of losing you
to the world again
as a gift of love,
becoming a better man
than the one I was.
In this way I remain faithful
to the love we shared,
in this way I remain faithful
to your heart of unbound love,
in this way I release you from me
and give you back to the world, as love…

Free Verse # 436 (je t’aime)

La neige,
je la sentis en dormant,
sa haleine blanche
fondant dans mes rêves
tel le parfum
de la femme inconnue
que j’aime.

~

A l’aube
je m’assois à la fenêtre,
dans l’haleine du silence
le parfum de ton souffle
embrasse mes joues,
dans la lumière qui frémit
autour des fleurs
l’auréole de ton visage
absorbe la vie
qui coule dans mes veines.
Je t’aime.

~

The red poppies
diligently hiding
in the folds of her skin;
to uncover them
I leaf through, patiently,
with the breath of poetry.

~

Without her
poetry is just words,
sunlight and wine
offer no warmth,
and life is but a shell
of salt and sand.

~

My heart
a midnight train
buzzing
with empty faces
all longing
for your face

~

Now
it begins again,
the long ache
of trying to forget her
only to find her
in another’s smile,
in another’s face.

Free Verse # 435 (I dreamed of touching her)

My photograph. Tannourine Cedar Trees Reserve, January 2019

Like freshly fallen snow,
its immaculate whiteness
keeping track
of the slightest movement
of animals, trees, and wind,
her skin holds
the traces of my words
as they drip from my pen,
as they stir in my soul.

~

Ma mémoire de toi
est comme l’eau
qui coule toujours
dans le berceau
du rêve océanique
de ta chair

~

For miles and miles
I drove through the night
to find her lying naked
by the chimney
her shimmering skin aching
for a drop of poetry

~

Her perfume,
though softer
than the moon’s light
falling through the clouds,
its billows carry me
to shores unknown
to mankind.

~

I dreamed
of touching her
silently
slowly
completely
so that my touch
would fill her
like the light
gently pours
to fill the sky at dawn

~

Your reply
to the letter
I sent you years ago –
at dawn
a bird singing
on my windowsill.

Free Verse # 434 (she is all the lights)

In your touch
I make transactions
with beauty,
selling each moment
for a veil of your light,
feeling the white
of your perception
shine from my soul.

~

My poetry,
its endless brushstrokes
paint the features
of my face;
look at it,
it has no eyes
but only a silence
with which to gaze
upon the world.

~

When I write
I imagine my fingers
touching her face
the way the moth hovers
around the candle-light,
I feel my hands
dipped in her skin
like oars rowing
in a starlit sea of poetry.

~

Looking at her
the poem tries
with burnings fingers
to describe her beauty,
but then it falls down,
speechless.

~

She is all the lights the city needs.

~

My heart
I feel it connected to yours
by a hidden string,
like night to the day,
like the sky to the earth
and to the rolling sea of stars.

Free Verse # 433 (this moment is but a dream, vanishing)

In my love for you
the profanity of my spirit
once more
touched the hem
of God’s soul

~

This moment
is but a dream,
vanishing;
in the mirror
of its smoke
I behold your face,
ever dancing in the wind,
ever warm with grace.

~

Smoke and mirrors,
in this world
I only care to polish
the image of your face.

~

You wander through me
unchanged for eternities
like the ray of light
that shined from God’s heart
on the dawn
of the very first day

~

The music of your voice
comes back at dawn;
like a dewdrop on the leaf
I sit down and listen.

~

Having her here
sleeping next to me,
in the rhythm of her breath
a window opening
onto an endless sea.

~

Beloved, I only have eyes to see you through the window of my heart.

~

My heart burns for you
with the passion of petals
in a tight bud, unfurling,
with the desire of a seed
in the dark soil
feeling all around it
the heat of spring.

~

I am thinking of your voice
and the way it drifts at dawn,
a ray of warm sunlight
through the dewy cover of fog.

I am thinking of your breath
and the way it fills the sky,
starlight from distant galaxies
like dancing snowflakes falling down.

~

Looking through
the dictionary of the winds
for words to describe her,
I discovered the scent
of the jasmine flower
under the summer moon,
little fires of starlight
wandering the tilting sky
early before the dawn,
the words poets uttered
from a wounded heart,
the heated breaths
exchanged between
the merging lips lovers,
the ineffable presence of things
as they enter
the silence of God.