In the summer
I stretch out on the shore
And think of you
Had I told the sea
Every time I kiss you
After a long separation
I am putting a hurried love letter
When a man is in love
how can he use old words?
Should a woman
desiring her lover
Light is more important than the lantern,
The poem more important than the notebook,
And the kiss more important than the lips.
My letters to you
Oh, my love
If you were at the level of my madness,
You would cast away your jewelry,
Sell all your bracelets,
My lover asks me:
"What is the difference between me and the sky?"
The difference, my love,
Is that when you laugh,
My son places his paint box in front of me
and asks me to draw a bird for him.
Into the color gray I dip the brush
and draw a square with locks and bars.
'I have no power to change you
or explain your ways
Never believe a man can change a woman
Those men are pretenders
When the moon is born in the east,
And the white rooftops drift asleep
Under the heaped-up light,
Barada, oh father of all rivers
Oh, horse that races the days
Be, in our sad history, a prophet