And no War can Kill me.
I am the marshes and the reed houses of the south
I am the migratory birds dancing in circles
Around the sun that embraces the marshes
...
Whenever I gaze at the candlelight
in a silent room at midnight,
with its flickering flame float
my thoughts that freely over rupture gloat.
...
My oars are broken, and the tide is high.
And the journey is long, and far is the shore.
In the sea's winding corridors I lost my cry.
Like a lion, the waves madly roar
...
Leaving home behind
against one's will
is no thing but leaving
one's own self
...
YOU wrote, long ago, of children crying
Today, I write of children dying
Like little linnets, a storm swallows their nest,
And the autumnal leaves among which to rest,
...
We are the followers of Yazid.
They are the followers of Abu Lu'lu'ah.
we are the murderers of Hussein.
They are the traitors of Hussein.
...
We are the leaves
Of the same tree.
Tied to the same root
And the same force
...
I wish I was the rain
soaking the roof of her room
and the fields far away,
mixing their dampness
...