Caesura - V. Poem by Habib Tengour

There's nothing. Renew the experience?
The pain loses all materiality.
At the moment of breaking camp,
the heart grows heavy.
The eye contracts. An empty horizon.

That's no problem! The pleasures of the body are not futile.
They illuminate the soul like the lamp of the hermit…
On the Euphrates, the winds are raging to remind you
of the terror of a sacred night and the glare of your escapades.

The evocation suggests a few veiled images storming
an uncertain memory. Patiently you put the words
in charge of subverting the weft of the poem
to transmit a breath. No matter that wild beasts
do not leave their lairs to keep you company.