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.

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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.

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.