http://www.damascus-online.com/Nizar.htm



Grant Me Love That I May Bloom
Listen, my lady,Listen to me well,
for I am in a passionate fit
and it may not repeat itself
A mystical state! a poetic fit!
splendid in its grief
–for I am scented always by my grief

Hold me close, my lady,
for I am in a state of tipsiness
My arteries are draining,
my bones disintegrating
Quick! Wash your hair in the river of my craziness–
the craziness of love that can never be explained

Read me, my lady, Read me well
for I am in search of a moonstruck reader
who will slip my poetry on her wrists like bracelets
and see the world take the shape of a poet

Be drunk, my lady, Be drunk on me
Be drunk until the sea turns rose-red,
turns winedark,turns grey,turns yellow
How beautiful it is
for a woman to lose her balance
in the presence of poetry
and become drunk

I am in the most beautiful of my tempers
I am in the most radiant of my moments of civilization
Oh, I do love when I get civilized!
Give me another chance to write history,
my lady, for history does not repeat itself

I changed history with love
just as I changed the history of womanhood
What is poetry if it does not change things?
What is a poet if he does not change?

With every new story of love
added to my country’s story trove,
the rose overswells with fragrance
and the midsummer moon overspills with milk

For fifty years
I have been leaping
from landmine to landmine,
calling my people to change.

No, I have not blasted the wall of ugliness
as I had imagined:
I’m the one who’s been blown up
by my own explosives

In fifty years,
I have yet to see a doe
flee from her hunter,
yet to know a woman
who wanted to be liberated…

By Nizar Kabbani
Translated by Mohja Kahf

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About Beema Noel

One navigates life's journey with the compass given. With blessings our instrument is true. Never Forget Remember the One The Way of Love Our Life, Our All This I believe is the journey we share so let us gladly walk together. As a child guided by my heart~ calling to mountains & sky, As a teen my heart called for freedom, As a young man; Blessed by the mystic yogi, One who may lead those seeking to make their way, by the rainbow light of the ever new Aeon.
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