Before The Door Closes Poem by Fatima Nusairat

Before the door closes
And the night goes to its exile and
Weeper's sleep goes to its right-hand and
Defeated language goes to its hole.

Before the Sun moves its eyelid,
before sadness passes,
before birds and sea, pass
and - horizon innocent guest's -
vanishes with its sins to its ultimate destiny.

Give me a secret of water, fire,
mountain which sleeps in the birds,
river secret, trees, obelisk,
aging dawn and the homeland secret
which on the ash sleeps.

Before the door was closes
Slow down slightly, then pronounce
Word by word my covered face
with love, fear and language
which lives thousand and
thousands of years on my lips.

Before the door was closes
Carry me on your palms, and muse!