The Poet: Jassim Al-Sahih

Your passage through love matched my passage / and the relationship of a balcony and flowers flourished / and the waterfall of fragrance poured out on the horizon / until my passing was soaked with your scent / and my feelings embraced you as the embrace of a (Quran) / between arms belonging to it, and chests / and I am enduring in you the wandering of a resurrection / in the shade of a gathering for passion and a dispersal / this is the day of love so sip with me / the breast of the morning in a breakfast milk / as long as you are in the cup of mood (sugars) / I will not pay attention to the (doctor's advice)! / Pour life upon life for what is passion / except the taste of its camphor mood / and put in my head a drunkenness that is not befitting / except for those who t drunk without wines / I am the judge of judges and you are my case / and I am afraid the false witnesses will deceive us / so hold on to me so that we may fix a rose / in the trunk of this hollowed-out world / and embrace the nations in their poets / with arms of letters and lines / (Egypt) hosts us in (Ahmed's house) / and (India) brings us down upon (Tare) / we must water passion with poems / that keep it in the permanence of chlorophyll / I do not claim between me and you a look / that jumped with us in love over the top of the wall / for the lake of the bright moon is vast / but it started with a drop of light / and love is a memory in the roots, and a vision / extending between buds and seeds / love is like always heated tea / no state of tepidity lasts upon it / we may not master drinking it in one gulp / hurried, so we drink it with the slowness of feeling / two hearts in which the wine is ignited / glowing like the two eyes of a watchman! / Your passage through love matched my poem / and it sighed with its pained metaphor / lightning ran through the two lovers and shone / their vision with od tidings and joy / and you rained in me, and I did not imagine that you would rain / if you were passing through a wasteland! / and your river extended dreaming as if it / yearned for me to build my bridges upon it / as if (Bilqis) was embodied in you / and prepared for her enchanted (Nizar) / (The Flood) gifted you the revolution of its water / and love releases (the boiling of the furnace) / and you went on pushing through my senses / and crumbling my shells with your palms / and tearing the membrane of my soul inside me / until the flavor of the hidden became widespread / it is enough for passion that you pass through me just as / space passed through the bird's mind / I yearn for you and (a stage) celebrates you / inside me, and my feelings are (my audience) / so I feel the infection of longing between my ribs / running to (the lights) and (the decor) / O paradise that spread all its branches / for me, and tempted me with all my birds / (Moses) of the lovers is still parallel / to (the well) of passion, watering without wages / and I see life hanging down with its fruits / so that we may pick its legendary apples / I am not (the chaste one) to beware of you, so beware / that I turn away from a trapped lover / I fear gravity will fail when / we approach its law with aversion / and the river in the ice age is a victim / crying over its youths and the houris / and I am the traveler in the extension of my lineage / a river covered by the ice of ages / no warmth is enough for me; I want a passion / that invades me with its mad flame / love is not a seagull lighting my shores.. / like love is a whale that violates my seas! / yesterday; they spoke about me who spoke / about (a thief stealing the fire of d), bold / since I was (the morning child) and I was him / a mischief that breaks the monotony of (the queue) / until I ended up as a passing angel / between hearts with his famous letter / I am still like the wounded grape, his consolation / is in the people the euphoria of his drunken wound! / I complain the complaint of an oyster, occupied by / a stone in the form of a tucked-in pearl / thirsty so water me with your fresh presence / free that breaks the grip of the forbidden / I grow on your noble hand just as / the thicket grows on the hand of the waterwheel / so perhaps the (workers) of passion in my blood / find in you (the constitutional guarantee) / do not leave me like a hemistich of a poem / uprooted from its text, amputated / whenever you were absent I poured out like a wave / wasted on a deserted shore / it is for me in your absence to treat a laugh / choked by its broken frame / it is for me to restore what was destroyed inside me / with my store of your inhabited voice / it is for me all that (Troy) felt / from its dominant grief over (Hector) / it is for me...