My darling, I have much to say Where o precious one shall I begin ? All that is in you is princely O you who makes of my words through their meaning Cocoons of silk These are my songs and this is me...
Green Tunisia, I have come to you as a lover On my brow, a rose and a book For I am the Damascene whose profession is passion Whose singing turns the herbs green A Damascene moon travels through my blood...
My son places his paint box in front of me and asks me to draw a bird for him. Into the color gray I dip the brush and draw a square with locks and bars. Astonishment fills his eyes:...
Barada, oh father of all rivers Oh, horse that races the days Be, in our sad history, a prophet Who receives inspiration from his lord Millions acknowledge you as an Arab Prince... so pray as an imam...
When the moon is born in the east, And the white rooftops drift asleep Under the heaped-up light, People leave their shops and march forth in groups To meet the moon...
And of me say the fools: I entered the lodges of women And never left. And they call for my hanging, Because about the matters of my beloved I, poetry, compose. I never traded Like others...
My voice rings out, this time, from Damascus It rings out from the house of my mother and father In Sham. The geography of my body changes. The cells of my blood become green....
Good morning sweetheart. Good morning my Saint of a sweetheart. It has been two year mother since the boy has sailed on his mythical journey. Since he hid within his luggage...
We are accused of terrorism: if we defended rose and woman and the mighty verse... and the blueness of sky... A dominion... nothing left therein... No water, no air... No tent, no camel,...
I conquer the world with words, conquer the mother tongue, verbs, nouns, syntax. I sweep away the beginning of things and with a new language that has the music of water the message of fire...
"I have no power to change you or explain your ways Never believe a man can change a woman Those men are pretenders who think that they created woman from one of their ribs...
In the summer I stretch out on the shore And think of you Had I told the sea What I felt for you, It would have left its shores, Its shells, Its fish, And followed me.
I wept until my tears were dry I prayed until the candles flickered I knelt until the floor creaked I asked about Mohammed and Christ Oh Jerusalem, the fragrance of prophets...
If you are my friend... Help me... to leave you Or if you are my lover... Help me... so I can be healed of you... If I knew.... that the ocean is very deep... I would not have swam......
Light is more important than the lantern, The poem more important than the notebook, And the kiss more important than the lips. My letters to you Are greater and more important than both of us....
I do not resemble your other lovers, my lady should another give you a cloud I give you rain Should he give you a lantern, I will give you the moon Should he give you a branch...