![]() ![]() ![]() 5 I enter the courtyard of the Umayyad Mosque And greet everyone in it Corner to. ![]() And after the “bride” of oil and thyme That she would roll up for me No longer does any other 'bride' in the world please me And after the quince jam she would make with her own hands I am no longer enthusiastic about breakfast in the morning And after the blackberry drink that she would make No other wine intoxicates me. 4 I return After my limbs have been strewn across all the continents And my cough has been scattered in all the hotels After my mother’s sheets scented with laurel soap I have found no other bed to sleep on. To the first woman who taught me The geography of love. I return after sixty years To search for my umbilical cord, For the Damascene barber who circumcised me, For the midwife who tossed me in the basin under the bed And received a gold lira from my father, She left our house On that day in March of 1923 Her hands stained with the blood of the poem… 3 I return to the womb in which I was formed. A new mouth emerges for my mouth A new voice emerges for my voice And my fingers Become a tribe 2 I return to Damascus Riding on the backs of clouds Riding the two most beautiful horses in the world The horse of passion. 1 My voice rings out, this time, from Damascus It rings out from the house of my mother and father In Sham. ![]()
0 Comments
Leave a Reply. |
AuthorWrite something about yourself. No need to be fancy, just an overview. ArchivesCategories |