Who am I to say to you
what I say to you?
I was not a stone polished by water
and became a face
nor was I a cane punctured by the wind
and became a flute...
I am a dice player,
...
I have a seat in the abandoned theater
in Beirut. I might forget, and I might recall
the final act without longing … not because of anything
other than that the play was not written
skillfully …
...
Between Rita and my eyes
There is a rifle
And whoever knows Rita
Kneels and plays
To the divinity in those honey-colored eyes.
And I kissed Rita
...
I see what I want in the farm ... right now I see
braids of wheat combed by the wind, and I close my eyes
...
He embraces his murderer.
May he win his heart: Do you feel angrier if I survive?
...
I will slog over this endless road to its end.
Until my heart stops, I will slog over this endless, endless road
...
I am a woman. No more and no less
I live my life as it is
thread by thread
and I spin my wool to wear, not
to complete Homer's story, or his sun.
...
I am Yousuf, O father.
O father, my brothers do not love me nor want me among them.
They assault me and throw stones and words at me
They want me to die so they can eulogize me.
...
With dynamite she raps her waist…
She explodes…
...
A passenger on the bus says…
nothing impresses me.
...