Gaza, The First Sip From The Sea's Breast
When the wind sips the silent cloud
Floating around you
You seem as if you are
Death embracing the sea
Lashes absorbing fear,
A barrier concealing the very first tear,
Suspended by the day palm,
You were not as I wished,
When I met you on a day of no tale
The same fairy held between the waves' rips
My lady, you were
A strange spirit not bearing the beach's seed
A chopper binding to enjoy my thorns,
The wind does not clap for the absence
Of your ancient half from
The stage of memories
It does not curse the other face
Which emerged before you
It was like a hanging finger
Desiring the time of travel
Frankly,
I desired flowing over your rips
Sans curtain
As invited by all cities
And, despite being subsided,
I'm fluttering an apparition,
A song
A bunch of things not formed without your breath
You, the first sip from the sea's breast
You, sadness' seed inside us
O, city encompassed by curses
How shall we walk without voices?
Without springs carrying beach hues?
How shall we talk with your shreds?
You, an ancient secret,
A painting consumed by the song's star,
A morrow not baptized by the sun's light
When the time-vines emerge from your sides
Looking from your western terrace
Trying to return your mare to her summer
Winning a little victory
Then trying to sneak through the dawn's blue
To a slumbering ship
Residing there and vanishing
Into the basements of victory
Translated by S. el-Omary
Meaningful economics
1 day ago
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