Haiku # 686

Falling autumn leaves
even the cat is looking
through the window

~

وحيدا عند الغروب
لم يأت أحدا ليراني
الا مطر الخريف

~

سَنَونَوات أيلول
كأنها من طفولتي تعود
بذكرياتٍ تناثرت في الريح

~

This cold autumn
my heart warmed
by the image of her face

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

Haiku # 685

يلفظ الكلمات كأنها
…أوراق خريف تتساقط
!الشاعر

~

Autumn returns
and my heart fills
with a nameless longing

~

La nuit descend…
dans un coin de mon cœur
s’allume une chandelle

~

Autumn evening
I light a candle
and open my book

~

Itinerant heart –
no house but the road,
no home but the wind…

~

Steeping my tea
as the moon quietly
looks through the window

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.

Haiku # 684

…أوراق الخريف
بلا أثر يذهب
كل شيء

~

Autumn begins…
my heart a yellow leaf
listening to the wind

L’automne commence…
mon cœur est une feuille jaune
à l’écoute du vent

الخريف يبدأ
قلبي ورقةٌ صفراء تنصت
الى الريح

~

ولّى نصفها
حياتي التي تغوص
في ضباب الخريف

Its half gone
my life that steeps
in autumn mist

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.

Letter, August 25, 2020

“For if you desire anything which is not in our power, you must be unfortunate,” says the philosopher Epictetus. Yet, a thousand times unfortunate for desiring you and not having you, than one time fortunate for not desiring you at all. I welcome the fate of your unrequited love, and bless it as a higher fate any other in which I have not known your love at all.

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

Haiku # 682

كلما أمسكت قلماً لأكتب
وجدت بشرتها ترتعش
تحت اناملي

~

عينيها النديتين
يخيّل اليّ أن ندى الفجر
يتساقط منهما

~

القليل من الشعر كل يوم
لأتلمس دفء انفاسك
فيهدأ قلبي

~

في أغنية من أغاني فيروز
سمعت صوتك لأول مرة
حبيبتي

~

ليس هناك من حائط قوي كفاية ليقف أمام عذوبة صوتك

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.

Haiku # 680

Drenched in mist
my heart is a landscape
of eternal longing

~

Long after we parted
her perfume lingered
on my trembling hand

~

Moon in the window
the sound of my heart
breaking before dawn

~

Still caught in my throat
the words I dared not say
at her funeral

~

Buddhas in the snow…
their bald heads wet
with dreams of summer

~

Thawing snow…
the Buddha’s head dripping
with dreams of summer

~

The high mountain…
climbing to a world
of wind and mist

~

All the women I loved
in my memory they bear
the image of your face

~

In my secret life
I find her beauty
in everything I see

~

…اسمها
حتى شعري لا يقوى
على كتابته

Haiku # 679

A day for listening…
in the pine trees
the blowing wind

~

Brume matinal
ma vie semble comme un rêve
qui n’a jamais été

~

Tous les mondes possibles
fondus
dans notre baiser

~

All the possible worlds
melted
in our kiss

~

Beyond the grave
all I’ll take with me
is a ribbon of her scent

~

Rien pour t’offrir
sauf mon cœur
au bout de la nuit

~

I looked into the darkness
and I saw your face…
moon in the sky

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