Poem 126, Sonnet 61: The Passion Lapped In Still Poem by Samer Madbak

She banishes the voice, expels the word
Muffles the timid phrases of the soul
All goes astray, all speech is rigmarole
The mouth betrays, the thought tarries unheard
Little is said, and what can be inferred
From hopeful smiles that mask the truer call
From desperate looks that cannot tear the pall
Of silence, and exhume the love interred…
She pillages the spirit, unbestirred,
Plunders the breath and consummates the fall
Does not the sovereign belle the heart enthrall?
Does not the heart exalt the yoke incurred?
She loots the amorous tunes, deludes the will,
Oh! Can she read the passion lapped in still?


Beirut
November 18th 1997