Saturday, July 31, 2004

From Feather of the Crow by Syrian poet Adonis (my translation):
Coming without flowers or fields
Coming without seasons,
Nothing is for me
in the sand or the wind
in the splendor of morning
except youthful blood
flowing with the sky...
Coming without seasons
Coming without flowers or fields
and a spring of dust lies
in my blood
I live in my eyes
I eat from my eyes-
I live, I carry on life
while waiting for
a ship that embraces existence
that sinks to the deep
as if dreaming or
as if sailing away
without returning.