قمرٌ لا تخمدُ أنفاسه

During the day..

I draw a mark on my heart

In celebration of those who are illuminated by his chaos

I do not indulge much in the companionship of the heat

Yet the pulse gives meaning to the gifts

It is mine to grant dreams a moon that never exhausts its breath

And a generosity that immortalizes in clay the cluster of his blood

Whenever I try to sprinkle light with light

The fir forests mislead me

There is no harm if I embroider in the presence of the wound

A laugh or two

Fertility appears from the windows of the unseen

I negotiate with water the consequence of burning

Every laugh that my heart emits is laden with tales

And every glance that my blood bites brings me back to the south

What senses are those that find shade

Under trees that are urban?

And what fear is that which spoke to me

About the nakedness of the road?

I save nothing in absence

Except for absence

With the thumb of passion, I engineer the arrogance of the universe

As soon as I shake hands with imagination

Joy sprouts two wings

And the roar struts, unconcerned with distance

I do not dare to confess in the majesty of the absent

Only.. I draw on the eyelid of the air lands overflowing with laughter

As if the moment were meteors lying in

The unique stillness

I said:

I know the flutter from the colors of its joy

From the distractions of morning coffee

No tears in the shrine of night

And no frost at the gates of resurrection

I hide from sunset the lapses of the linden

And here I am an inkwell singing at the mouth of the river

Before my heart dries up

And the spring that followed me with lush moods

Has become my ally after preserving its company

During the day..

I draw a mark on my heart

I write letters that resemble me

Adorned with raisins and the ripe moment

I trace the rings of light to see clearly

A fragrance immersed in the shout of violets

And an apricot that becomes with kisses luminous hills

I am not afraid!!

I am like a forest that has approached eloquence

At the moment when rain dances behind the door

And when the rivers doze in the garment of love

And the gurgle tickles its belly

I will soar without being troubled by

The downpour of meaning

And I will sleep without my

Face shrinking in the mirrors

And those who celebrated my chaos

I will gift them a laugh enchanted with strange blood

And a rose in my hair will say what the ember dares not to say..