Freedom

translated by:
By Qasim Haddad Mohammed A. Alkhozai
malkhozai@bibf.com

On the island that looks like a pregnant woman,
A lover yawns in a long cell , like a grave,
Deep as a well
And draws a sarcastic smile on his lips.

On the island that was pregnant and pregnant and pregnant…
But never gave birth,
They brought him the little baby,
Very little,
That his wife gave birth to,
To him, they said, "You became father, now".
He yawned with the same sarcastic smile on his lips,
He did not care much,
And said, " But when did my mother beget me?

Two In One

Walking … Two in One,
Accompanied by the greenfinch,
Jumping from one tree to another
Like a naughty bird.
They hurry and it hurries
They slow down and it slows down.
They laugh,
Two in One.
They sit on one chair that fits them both;
The greenfinch does not sit
Space is not that spacious for it.
It only lays its cheek on the branch,
It looks and looks.

They spoke , Two in One :
"Come let us ask this curious greenfinch ..
What it wants !?"

They approached ..
It said, " I am only a greenfinch , please , take me with you".

They kept on walking
With trees , grass
And unripe possibilities.

They walk, Two in One.

With More Freedom

Freely, I established my relationship with words,
In the delicious inferno of your inkpot,
I dipped my quills and wrote.
I was the first to read my hemorrhage;
And suddenly,
They snatched me from your lap.
They prohibited my pens and papers.
They banished me from my books
And from your warmth that made my words more beautiful.
I found my fingers sense
- in the obscurity of cells -
Luminous paths
Leading to the Word.

I felt no more the need for pens and papers,
Hearts of my companions became books to read and cuddle
With more freedom.

I instituted relationships with the horizon,
And when I am at sea or in the desert,
In the stone forest,
Or in coma,
Poetry never leaves me.
The poet needs nothing but longing in the heart
So as to flow.
I am in need of nothing but you.
You are my blazing desire like radiance in my words.

Home is also Music

In the music that wanders in the rooms of our little home,
And climbs walls, windows and bookshelves,
The music that shares our dinner and love
And reads poetry;

In the music that flows under our blankets,
And swims in the milk of our children,
And when we go to sleep and wake up
It stays at night watching our days,

In this music, wait for me,
In this music, I shall wait for you.

A Prayer Not For Him

My God!
Touch this Heart with Thine Heart
Can You recognize it ? It is yours.

Fond and captivated by you
But they blocked all paths leading to you
Each party possesses a path and erects a door
Saying, "My gate is the pathway".

My God! Lead me to a path
Not owned or governed
That has no gate or sentries.