My beloved is mine and I am hers
She who is finer than imagination
She has ravished my heart with her eyes
Her eyes, like doves by the rivers of waters
...
Yester night I had a morbid dream
Like a Sheikh In a forbidden harem
The messenger of death smiled at me
And in a rare case, bent at my face
...
To you Esmil
The beauty in your smile
And the glow in your eye
As to when I look at them
...
That woman I see in your dreams
Her hand is lifeless, everything she touches die
Her breathe, every plant withers, dry
She only dances to music made of a living cry
...
Into my silent land I sleep
In your chaotic world,
I admire you breath
When you look down at the ants
...
Nothing shall stand between a man and his mind
Not guns, not prisons, not men in uniforms
So Poppa, Musambati Shira, Ian and volkanoh
While you make friends with the bugs in the dungeon
...
Upon this cliff, rests, Silence,
Series of dreams, broken
Deep the running river, sits
My very shadow, wounded
...
Shattered flings, scissored down
Into sharp fragments of broken glass,
Feelings of betrayed, stabbed soul:
Bleeding flower, laughing flies,
...
Prologue
The witty pages by the sword of the modern poet is fallen
The natural musings by the inks of a young poet left barren
Of these dog days, shall we not bid the whispering wind?
...
I looked and I beheld birds hover,
Myriads of birds, flying around the pale in her face,
Some weeping, some gossiping,
Most singing the inhuman songs,
...