For Rashid

[1]

Our paths cross
As I walk to the kitchen
And you to your desk.
I think of the unwashed dishes.
You think of the undone records.

We pass by each other
Without casting a half-look.
Only at midnight
may our bodies find the time
To speak to each other.

But , in spite of the harrasing silence
Inspite of dreams’ distressing absence
I have no doubts the Earth is keeping
Its course only because of you.
And the moment I lose you
The heart of the sun will stop beating.

[2]

A home
Made of dust of the roads …
Its windows are of spring
and the aroma of wild flowers.

In this room
My little angel is asleep
On the blue wings of her dreams,

In that room my little cavalier sleeps
With a smile on his face as white as the teeth
The angels are sowing in his mouth …….

And on the vigilant prayer rug
My husband, speaking with God:
A man who has united into himself
All the broken images of my self.

In this home
oblivious of months and minutes;
Poetry passes the night
To wake up in the morning
with the toys of my children .

[3]

Neither for a nest
Nor for a savings account,
Or even for old age props
Did I marry you, as all
My unwritten poetry can attest.

I needed warmth, only warmth,
Simple warmth of steaming mouths
In snowy days;
Beautiful warmth of sweat drops
On the window’s brow.

The natural warmth of blood
Swimming in the veins
Loyal ,until the last breath
Until the yielding moment
To the cold hands of the washer of the dead.

You proved your love warmly
By buying a home for me
By a joint savings account
And by giving me two children
To be a prop for my old age.


[4]

All along the shore
Keeping pace with my sadness
Whenever he saw a beautiful view,
He shared it with me.
Whenever a cool breeze blew,
He would wrap his coat around my shoulders,
And his arm around my neck
Like a warm shawl,
Just like the first day of our marriage,
After more than eighteen years .

He never forgot to harbour me
against the savage waves
of my dreams ;not always loyal to him
but devoted to Love for ever and beyond .

[5]

Not the heaps of your love letters
In the velvet chest of memories;
Not the armful of flowers and fruits
You bring home in the evenings;

Not even the gold bracelet of 18 carats
You give me on our wedding anniversary;

The only witness to your pure love,
this pale plastic bin heavy with rubbish,

which you carry down from the fourth floor, step by step,
refusing the help of my sleepy hands night by night!


[6]

Every morning
I accompany him to the door
And before he leaves,
I kiss his forehead,
Where I see the traces of God.

Every morning
Before he leaves,
He kisses my hands
Where he finds a nest For poetry.

By the window I remain
Until he is out of sight,
And I wave my hand to his shadow;
Brighter and warmer than sunshine
Every day dearer than yesterday,

For,he is the father of my children
And the man who has forsaken
All the woman in the world
To choose me as his inevitable destiny.

[7]

When you are dead and gone
The phone will ring every night,
And I will live in your silence,
warm and sad,
Listening to my lonesome words
And sipping my tears, gently,
Like a kind pool in autumn rain.

Thus and so I believe in you,
In your endless passion
And in my needful arms
To summon your captured spirit
From the world of the dead
                                      Everynight.

[8]

One day
Instead of your kind open arms,
Death will lure me, unwilling, into his own
And into the warm embrace of fragrant earth:
A place for eternal rest, but I restless
Shall seek for you in my undying dreams.

[Edited by : George Trialonis]