|
Songs
to the Homeland
Eyes
That see what we don't
With sail eyelashes
Torn by the saltiness of the sea.
The fragrant of a susceptive rose
was at once in the dawn of a shining spring
breaks against the rowing mirror
When the wave leaves its awakening
For the mask of charming light
And leaves!
The veins of the intrigues…
Which grave warrants the smell of fragrance to you
In the time of disintegration
The miracle times are gone.
Which cloud is loaded by full moonlight
Which tremble is the chips' color,
When they rip ,they repeatedly repeat our names
digs graves from lemon
Graves ready for the coming.
There...
We will sleep as flowers
Covered by their nectar
And their virgin dreams
Their Rhythm…
Repeating their painful echo
Like the waves of a sea.
The storm waits with her sword
Loaded ships with good health.
...............
.........................
The longing in this night
Ascends to the throat
Pulling out the light of the eyes.
The body
A room for a roaming soul
With the waves
That slumber on far away strands
Or perhaps
They will wander on wings of fog
With no homeland.
And from far away light barrows
We will wave our burned hands
In a hurry
Afraid of sailor mobs.
Dark nights
Sneak their silence
Like fog
To houses with smashed doors and windows.
The ring of death
In empty nights
I seek protection in my pillow
Under storming winds of car explosions
And I…
Look from the other bank
At the silver, traveling cloud.
Under my torn skin
Ribs
That embraces a ghost
Almost …
In the facing of seas without banks
Flows as a confused wave
And aspires skyward
Emigrates my chest
To a near sunset like the mirage.
..........
.....................
Another spring came to us
Loaded
With figs and pears
In small baskets
Like my nude chest
Waiting for your return.
................
.........
Until the wind stops
From the wail,
An unhealed wound
Like the turning of Earth
I will wait for you
Burning light bulbs
And virgin beds by their white beddings
Not knowing repentance.
|
