وحدتي

لم يعد يعرفني أحد
،ولا حتى قصيدتي
ذلك العصفور
ضاق فيه القفص في صدري
،ورحل
زهرة الربيع على
الغصن الأخضر
تفتقت بذكرى
،لم تعد تعرفني
حصاد السنين
وحدة قاتلة
وريح كلما اقترب نفسها من وجهي
ذوت
وبذور حب
نبتت فوق صدر امرأة
.مجبولة بالسراب والألم

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Haiku # 541

Bien-aimée
à toucher ton visage je deviens
l’haleine des étoiles

~

Mon cœur
abime sans borne
où meurent les étoiles

~

Entre nos lèvres
le pacte invisible
des étoiles de nuit

~

This poetry that I write, addressed to no one.

By the autumn road
waiting for no one
I listen to the wind

Letter, August 13, 2017

Tell them I spent my life banished amid the pages of books, reading, feverishly, fluttering like a firefly amid words of darkness and light. Tell them that in the pages of books I found myself entangled like a bee stuck in honey, like a lover’s fingers in his beloved’s hair. Tell them that, contrary to what they think, it is no wasted life, it is a life of solitary abundance, a life of living at the source of what makes humanity great, and what makes life worth striving for, worth living. Tell them that I have been blessed, to read, to be able to read a fragment of that which is truly, spiritually great. Tell them that in an age of anxiety, of spiritual crisis, I have dared, through books, to gaze at the future, to imagine a different future, and that through these visions I strived to birth and live my life, my present, my spirit and state of mind. Tell them, beloved, that amid the pages of books I have loved and been loved, made friendships the likes of which are so rare on earth, shed tears, oh so bitter tears, rejoiced and found a joy that is simple like flowers and grass growing in a fallow field. Tell them, beloved.

Wandering Thought # 54

Like a tight bud I closed in upon myself, but that was only the outward appearance of it; in truth it was an inward motion, a closing in upon the self that is an opening up of an inward world, the inward world, the world of the soul; and the most precious thing this gave me? (and this I call poetry, the self-expressive, the inwardly reflexive) — the ability to withstand my solitude so I could deepen myself and give myself back to the world through my heart and from the depth of my soul.