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.

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

Free Verse # 452 (the road to the world)

Sensibilisé par la poésie l’être aime profondément, avec passion et en totalité.

~

I do not write
I only feel my heart quiver
as I touch your face

~

In my mother’s hands
there’s always a seed
growing roots and leaves;
my mother’s hands are always green.

~

I woke up today
to find myself aging,
and you still
a voice echoing
in the distance,
somewhere far away.

~

Poetry is the heir of the mystical essence of religion.

~

The road to the world has always seemed to me to lead through a deep wood.

~

The poem gives me eyes to look at the world beyond my own death.

~

ضاعت بنا السبل
فانتهينا عاشقين
كلٌّ في بلد
 نكتبُ الشعرَ ليلاً
ونحنُ ننظرُ إلى النجوم
علّنا نجدُ فيها شيئاً
من بريقِ الأملِ

Free Verse # 451 (a strange kind of flame)

Et je me suis endormi
envahi d’une étrange chaleur,
comme si la tête
de la femme que j’aime
reposait sur mon épaule,
comme si le poème
que j’avais lu le soir
s’était allumé en moi,
me réchauffant du dedans
par une étrange lumière.

~

يقول العلماء
أن أجسادنا مجبولة
من غبار النجوم؛
المسك
ويحن الغبار فينا
الى أصله،
فنتوهج قليلا
أنا وأنت،
ونشع بضوء
أضاء الكون
من ملايين السنين.

~

I kissed her wounds; I made love to her silence; I looked into her eyes, as into the endless sea; I felt her heartbeat, and I gave her my own.

~

La lumière des pensées se nourrit de la même nuit que celle des étoiles.

~

ما يربطهما
أعمق من الليل،
أوضح من النهار،
أبدي كالزمن،
متجدد أبدا كحقل ربيع،
كخرير ماء الجدول؛
ما يربطهما أغنية
أوسع من الحياة،
أغنية تدور كالصوفي
في قلب الله.

~

He attracted her slowly
like spring lures the flower
to unfold its petals
one by one

~

You can take the wolf out of the forest, but you cannot take the forest out of the wolf.

~

Night falls
and her skin fills
with a soft glow,
as though she had a moon
living inside.

~

Your name makes
a strange kind of flame
as I whisper it into
the darkness of the night

~

Rich beyond belief
if I had you now
here with me

Free Verse # 450 (the way home)

The way home…
star to star I kiss
the freckles of her skin

~

Autumn approaches,
on my lips
I can already taste the wine
of a cool evening
lost in the valley
amid the shadowy hills,
a fire burning slowly
as the wind shivers
in the frail leaves
while nature prepares
her long sleep.

~

Touchant sa peau
ses doigts ont glissé
tout au long de sa mémoire
à l’endroit où l’amour
est terre natale

~

البلد هو المكان الذي نعيش فيه ؛ الوطن هو ما نحمله في قلبنا.

~

اطمأنت له
فانغرست فيه
كجذر شجرة
مشتاقة إلى باطن الأرض،
اطمأنت له
فسافرت فيه
كطائرٍ مهاجر
سماؤه لا حدود لها.
اطمأنت لحبه
فسكنت فيه
وهدأ قلبها.

~

كان بينهما شيئاً كالليل،
غير منظور وأبدى.

~

Dawn rises,
morning arrives,
on the altar of light
I break the bread
and drink the wine,
I listen to the silence
as it empties my heart,
I write a little poem
and let it fly,
and I welcome with joy
what the day will bring,
let it take the shape
of my longing, my spirit, my light.

~

Only with his words
did he touch her skin,
and only once did his verse glide
along the edges of her mind,
but his words stayed
as their bodies drifted apart,
etched and shining like stars
in the sky behind her eyes.

~

I penetrated her
long before I touched her,
I vanquished her
with unbearable tenderness,
I seduced her open
so open that when a single
breath touched her skin
she trembled and filled
with an ocean of stars.

~

When I look into her eyes
all history is erased
and nothing exists
except this moment,
a passion growing
inside this majesty
of knowing and being known
without words,
heart to heart.

~

لم المس جسدها،
ولا حتى عقلها،
بل شيئاً ما في داخلها
جعل الحب يجيء
كما الربيع من
باطن الأرض.

~

من شعرها انسدل الليل
وفاض في جسدها،
اسود مائي في بشرتها
الممتلئة من نمش النجوم،
واصابعه ريشة ترسم
شهبا وانوار وهي تمر
بين المجرات السابحة
في بحر جسدها؛
بين يديه اضحت كوناً
أوله شعر وآخره صلاة،
وما بين الشعر والصلاة
بخورٌ ونبيذٌ وشبقٌ
وسرُّ اسرارِ الحياة.

~

الغمازات أسفل ظهرها
نوتات موسيقية،
ان داعبتها على مهل،
ان قبلتها، تحركت كالكمنجة في جسدها،
تكسرت كالموج على بشرتها،
منها فاضت لتملأ كأس نبيذك
موسيقى ورذاذ بحر
وشعرٍ مبلل بعطرها.

Free Verse # 449 (listening to the silence)

With my mouth
I lean down to where
the sun kissed her skin,
and I feel the warmth
caressing my lips,
fragrant, succulent,
the sun rays turned to a wine
filled with her essence,
and I drink slowly
as I feel it in my heart,
a love too big
for the earth and sky.

~

Around us
the world turned
like a mad vortex
as we kissed,
filled with noise yet still,
covered with endless veils
yet transparent
as we kissed
and kissed
until the end of the world.

~

I heard her words, but I listened to her silence

استمعت الى كلماتها، ولكن أنصتّ الى صمتها.

~

ان أصبحت شاعراً
فذلك لكي أتمكن، يوماً ما،
من قراءة المجرات والنجوم
وهي تدور في فلك بشرتها.

~

Like a vast kiss the rain fell
as we stood in the river
clasped against one another,
gazing into the distance
as the riverflow went on
disappearing into the fog;
we kissed, then closed our eyes,
listening to the silence
making us one
with the river, the fog
and the falling rain.

Free Verse # 448 (في سكون روحي)

ولكن يا حبيبتي
كل السنين التي أضعناها
وكل الأخطاء التي اقترفناها
لم تذهب سدىً
ما دمنا معاً، الآن،
في هذه اللحظة المقدسة
متشاركين هذا النفس
وكأس النبيذ
وضوء القمر
ككاهن يبارك الخبز والخمر
كصوفي يطوف حول الكعبة
في قلب الله.

~

A man, just by looking
into her eyes
will become a poet,
yet all the poetry in the world
will not help him
express what he feels
when he looks into her eyes.

 أصبح شاعراً
من نظرةٍ في عينيها،
ولكن كلُّ شعر العالم
لن يمكنَّه من أن يعبّر
عن ما يشعر به
عندما ينظر في عينيها.

~

لوْ كانَ للجَمالِ اسمٌ، لكانَ وجهها.

~

هذا الشِعر – رحيقُ الضَوء وهوَ يرتَدّ عَن بَشَرَتِها.

~

I loved her in the stillness of my soul.

أحببتها في سكون روحي.

~

I will write again
when I feel her move
inside my heart

Free Verse # 447 (What does the poet do?)

What does the poet do?—He listens to the silence.

~

Sealed in a kiss
this gift of longing
I received from you
is an ever aching thorn
burning in my heart

~

His kisses on her skin
grains of incense
left to smolder
and cover her
in a sharp fragrance
of jasmine and lust,
filling her lungs
with a slow fire
burning up to her mind,
spreading through her blood,
maddening her senses
with an ever growing yearning
to be claimed by their bond.

~

A lifetime is too short
for me to say what I see
when I look in her eyes

~

What helps you live prepares you to die.

~

With poetry I long
to photograph her soul

~

With you, my unknown women
always seated next to me,
I long for an earth-shattering connection,
deeper than the sea,
wider than the sky.

~

Dressed in the form
of the woman I love
God came to me,
and our union was His prayer,
and our kiss His holy wine.

~

Drinking her lips
I slowly take in
whatever God had meant
by blessing the wine,
by giving existence
His breath of life.

Free Verse # 446 (the region of my heart)

Love is the shortest distance between two hearts.

~

Dark brown
her eyes take me back
to the forest
I went into
and never came back –

~

Floating on the night air
the smell of jasmine
and orange blossoms
reminds me of her hair,
the way the light glides
along its waving curls,
the way, when I touched it,
I felt a lock open
in the region of my heart.

~

All the kisses
that clang to her skin
flowered in the moonlight
as I undressed her,
silently, slowly,
my gray beard
into her softness pressing
line after line
of poetry.

~

Touching her is a process; its name is poetry.

~

Each year runs
a little faster
since the day I saw
my first white hair

Each year runs
to find my heart
a little quieter
as autumn comes

~

For the poems to come
I close my eyes and imagine
her face

~

Unlabeled
this pulse tying
my heart and hers

Free Verse # 445 (a lonely cabin)

She hated the camera
yet when I photographed her
with poetry’s lens
she looked into my eyes
asking me to bare her
a little more, a little deeper,
to photograph her soul.

~

When I touch you
my heart is still,
like a star being reborn
into the vastness of the sky.

~

Her light is nourishment for my soul.

~

Dawn
on the still breeze
I feel a window
open between our hearts

~

A lonely cabin in a lost wood,
fire in the chimney,
empty bottles of wine,
his voice reading
as her head rises and falls
to the heave of his chest
while his arm surrounds her,
the falling night outside
hiding them
from the eyes of the world.

~

Her perfume of choice –
all that touches her skin
burns with the poetry
of his touch

Free Verse # 444 (with his touch he fuels her fire)

To love her
is to touch her heart
where a hidden world
lives silently
waiting to be known
and be filled with light

~

Je t’aime, il lui dit,
non pas avec ses mots,
mais avec sa présence,
avec son attention,
avec ses yeux.

~

With his touch
he fuels her fire,
clothing her
in the silk of kisses
and tender words,
listening to the heartbeats
pulsating in her skin,
uncovering the love
in her yearning eyes,
feeling through her
to her depth
that is wider than the sky.

~

Self-sufficient
or so I thought
until I felt her presence
and learned what it means
to be alive

~

في صدريَ ملاكٌ اسمُهُ حُبُكِ.

~

Love, my silent tormentor.

~

Not over her skin
but into her soul
his gaze glides
rushing and frothing
in seas and rivers
and reaching deep down
into an endless sky

~

He breathes out
and she aches
to breathe him in,
cradle his breath,
a fire growing
inside of her.

~

Every day
I start it with a poem,
my own way of looking
into your eyes
and telling you I love you,
you who is not here but lives
in the beatings of my heart.

~

Each dawn this ache in my chest
with your soft voice says –
‘here, I am inside of you,
wherever you go
you always carry me
in your heart’

Free Verse # 443 (if not a person, then what is she?)

Shaded in red and gold
my life is a book of poems
haunted by your specter,
you who was lost from the beginning,
you who was never mine
and will never be.

~

ان الله، عند خلقها، وجد نفسه شاعرا.

~

أما هي فابتسمت
عندما نظر اليها
كحديقة لم تزهر
منذ زمن طويل

~

بجانبنا تمرّ الحياة،
أنا وهي جالسين
على مقعدٍ في مقهى،
متقاسمين نفس نرجيلةٍ
وأطراف حديث،
نفسي يعبق برائحتها
ونفسها برائحة حنينٍ
أغرقه في كأسي،
في صحني،
في قلبي،
وأرفعه، محترقاً،
الى شفتيها.

~

All that I know about poetry I learned from gazing at her face.

~

As she sleeps
my breath travels
along her skin,
planting in her curves
the seeds of a fire
older than the stars.

~

Inhaling it deeply
his breath settles
amid her ribs
and flowers
on her skin
on her lips
in her eyes
a silent language
meant only for his eyes.

~

His breath
she yearns to feel it
filling up her lungs
seeping through her veins
rising to her head,
intoxicated, dizzy
in this connection,
this bond,
this poetry.

~

In her black hair
I dip my pen
and on the sheets
of her skin
I write my poems,
line after line,
kiss after kiss.

~

If not a person,
then what is she?
A long journey
with no place to rest,
an empty road
with flowers on its sides,
a hike into the forest
of no return.
Not a person to hold,
she is home
in the form of a fire
burning silently
in my chest.
She lives in my vision
of this world.

Free Verse # 442 (whose face ever eludes me)

It is enough to gaze at her to feel a river move in the region of the heart.

~

Love dares you, in the furthermost reaches of exile, fear, solitude, and pain, to keep your heart open to love.

~

To his presence
she opens her being
and offers herself
on the altar of his love

~

Elle existe en moi comme un obscur poème.

~

A dewdrop longs
to return to the sea –
ever since my birth
was it seeking you,
this love buried
inside of me.

~

All the tears
that she hid
behind her smile
she offered,
beads rolling
into the open palms
of his hands
that she kissed fervently,
ridding her heart
of the weight that crushed it
for a thousand years.

~

I was born with eyes only to see her whose face ever eludes me.

~

The sun was never
as radiant as when
his rays caressed
the moon of her skin

~

Le soleil n’était jamais
aussi lumineux que lorsque
ses rayons caressaient
la lune de sa peau

Free Verse # 441 (what is love?)

What is love?—the inwardness of a relation that, to the lovers, is greater than the earth and sky.

~

A kiss that is more
than a kiss;
a fusion of two bodies,
two souls,
two hearts,
two poetries…

~

Day and night
I journey to you,
an invisible thread
tying our hearts…

~

We are nameless, except in those moments when we are touched by love.

~

I am a poet; when I love a woman, I write to her; she lives in my soul, and becomes my poetry.

~

By your mere presence
you filled my life
with a beauty
I could not imagine,
with a light
I could not understand.

~

I sip my morning coffee
and listen to the autumn rain,
the quiet hush of her breath
wrapped around my neck
like a brown shawl,
and my fingers ache
to caress her hair,
to touch her face.

~

As I kiss her
all the wounds of the past
rise up to my mouth
and I feel them melting
between our lips

Free Verse # 440 (one day)

Her eyes were silent
like a book of poems
the moon read
to the earth at dawn

~

To lover her
is to see them
in her eyes
long before
they unfold
on paper;
the paintings
as they are birthed
in the fire of her heart.

~

One day I long
to tell you that I love you
in the simplest of ways,
not with words
but with silence,
in the shiver of wind between us,
as my eyes sink into yours
and our souls merge
finding in us a single ocean
to house our dance
with infinite grace.

~

With my hand on her hip
I love to feel it,
the power of life
undulating
as it surges from her belly;
in the silence, alone,
remembering her eyes
I love to feel it,
the ocean of love
rushing from my heart.

~

As the sun sets
I am sitting here
sipping tea and waiting
for your voice
to rain down on me
from the passing clouds

~

هي تصعد في دمي كدوار البحر
كملاك يسبح في الغمام
كشعلة محترقة في خشب
ينضح بالنبيذ

Free Verse # 439 (the salt of its white years)

All flowers bloom
propelled by a dream:
that one day
they will be plucked
to adorn
the curls of her hair.

~

In her heart
she was looking
for a piercing gaze
that would open her
to eternity,
that would deliver her
to the altar of God.

~

In the heart
of my darkness
I found a light,
when I listened
it uttered
the syllables of your name.

~

She lives in me as the sea –
still at its heart,
endless in its expanse
ebbing and flowing,
rushing and foaming
for all eternity.

~

From within this abyss
of space and time
I sing to her,
and this song
is my healing grace.

~

From behind I gaze
at her bare shoulders
and slender neck,
this delicate flower
with a head stooped
full of heady nectars,
and my fingers ache to dance
and my lips ache to taste,
reveling in a woman
whose light fills my heart
with the joy of poetry.

~

Her eyes
a window to a mystery
I long to unravel
day after day
night after night

~

With every poem
I am learning to touch you
in a different way,
in a new way,
but always
like a wave aching
to unfold in your heart.
Poetry—
the choreography of my verses
caressing your skin
in their longing to experience
the sanctity of your heart.

~

By the shore she stood
waiting for him,
listening to his voice
coming through the mists
and wetting her cheeks,
her fingers yearning
to caress his beard
and raise to her lips
the salt of its white years.

Free Verse # 438 (La poésie existe afin que l’homme sache comment caresser la femme)

The rain at dawn
sharpens your absence,
I wake up with my body
aching for your touch.

~

My ideal woman,
she’d wear summer for a dress,
with its jasmine flowers
she’d braid her hair;
her skin would smell
of its sun kissed apricot,
from her lips would flow
the velvet of its wine.

~

I looked into her eyes
searching for love,
but her heart was closed
and love was gone,
and I was out alone again
walking the endless waste
of this world we call modernity.

~

After all this time
I find that in my heart
I still love her,
achingly as if
in the shadow of absence
her love only grew,
tremendously as if
my lips against hers
were always pressed
though I only breathed her in
through the mouth of silence.

~

You feel her beauty swell in your heart not because of your attractiveness or looks, but because of what you feel when you look into her eyes.

~

This life of suffering out of loving her and not being able to have her is infinitely preferable to a life in which I did not know her at all.

~

Au moment où mon regard s’est plongé dans ses yeux je suis devenu un homme qui vit sur les mers.

The moment I gazed into the deeps of her eyes I became a man living his life sailing the high seas.

~

A man in love doesn’t measure the beauty of his woman by the shape of her body but by the depth he feels when he looks into her eyes.

~

La poésie existe afin que l’homme sache comment caresser la femme et sentir la blancheur de l’amour palpiter dans son âme.

Poetry exists so that a man may know how to caress a woman and feel the white wings of love flapping in her soul.

~

جمالها وهج
يكتنفه الغموض؛
الضوء في عينيها
بحر لا ينتهي.

Her beauty is a glow
shrouded in mystery;
the light in her eyes
is an endless sea.

~

A seafarer
sailing the sea of her eyes;
I sail in endless waters
never reaching a port,
never seeing a shore.
A seafarer
I sail the sea of her eyes,
and that sea is my home.

مسافر انا
في بحر عينيها،
بحر لا مرفأ فيه
ولا شاطىء؛
مسافر انا
في بحر عينها،
وبين امواج روحها
أجد سكناي ومنزلي.

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.

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.