An Attempt At Seeing


Adeeb Kamal Ad-Deen



Tears besieged me as a tank besieged

A blind man in the wilderness.


Tears of forty-years old are a superstition.

Music in tears is childhood.

Dance in tears is the extremist madness.

The letter in tears is my poetry,

O blind man.


How did I get lost ? How ?

Who threw me in the fathomless vale

Buried me in the desert,

Planted me in the belly

Of a lost cloud ?

Who made me run

Behind the sunís tail to the death ?


When would my language stop delirium ?


It is you .. you

Who celebrate my death

And forget yours.

It is you

Who is lost in my body and timeís body.

Have you given heed to tears ?

Have you given heed to death at the door ?

And to love breaking down like a mountain of snow ?

Have you given heed to your tears ?


After I had spent seventy centuries

In appearing in the sunís tail

That was full of blood, dust, and moan

I found nothing but words, words, and words.

Words of tears,

Letters of tears,

Dots of tears.


What made me so lost ?

Do tell me !

O, my age !

O, mountain of tears !


( T M )