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Nostalgia To The Light

From the well of my tragedies, calling your eyes

To carry the Vintage of brightness to my veins...

 

 

 By Mahmoud Darwish

 

 

Nostalgia To The Light

 

What Annoying the people if we walked in the light of day

And carried your handbag and umbrella

And took your mouth at the corner of the wall

And picked a kiss

your Eyes

I dreaming to see your eyes sleeping

to see the calm of the sea at sunrise

your Lips

I dreaming to see your lips when kissing

I see the sun flare in the birth of a wedding

What upset the night if I have lit two candles

and I saw your face washed by the beam

And saw the river of Ivory guarded by the Marble of boats

then I will be back to childhood to breastfeeding

From the well of my tragedies, calling your eyes

To carry the Vintage of brightness to my veins

What annoying the people if I put my head between your hands and cuddling your Waist in the road.

 

 

 

 

I Belong There 

 

 

 

 

I didn't apologize to the well when I passed the well,

I borrowed from the ancient pine tree a cloud

and squeezed it like an orange, then waited for a gazelle

white and legendary. And I ordered my heart to be patient:

Be neutral as if you were not of me! Right here

the kind shepherds stood on air and evolved

their flutes, then persuaded the mountain quail toward

the snare. And right here I saddled a horse for flying toward

my planets, then flew. And right here the priestess

told me: Beware of the asphalt road and the cars

and walk upon your exhalation. Right here

I slackened my shadow and waited, I picked the tiniest

rock and stayed up late. I broke the myth and I broke.

And I circled the well until I flew from myself

to what isn't of it. A deep voice shouted at me:

This grave isn't your grave. So I apologized.

I read verses from the wise holy book, and said

to the unknown one in the well: Salaam upon you the day

you were killed in the land of peace, and the day you rise

from the darkness of the well alive!

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