An Attempt at Music

Adeeb Kamal Ad-Deen





Music is falling, falling

Like a bird,

A bunch of grapes,

A waterfall.

So my heart flies with the bird

But my hand can not touch it.

The bunch of grapes touches my lips

But there is no love knife

To cut our sharp emptiness.

And the waterfall comes to me

I become water to meet it,

But I collide with its big stone and drown.


Even the letters made me worn-out.

They are the only visitors in my biggest loneliness

Who did not hold in their hands:

A suns bouquet,

A handful of the moon

Or kisses of feathers.


Everybody dressed in the clothes

Of the other

Except me.

When I found nothing to dress in,

I went out naked to the street

Stark naked.



Music is falling

With the nice letters L

Which are as sweet as childrens lips,

With the chirp letters R

The whispering letters S

And the dew of the letters N.


Music is coming.

I rise from death

To meet it as two orphan children

Sighing on the festival swing.


Since I had acquainted with my blood

I found it surrounded by birds.

Since I had acquainted with my heart

I found it brimmed with alphabets.


Happiness is a ballet dancer

And sadness is a Bedouin

Making earth as a seat for him

To play on the rebec.


My death was admired by me.

But when I tried to repeat it

I went crazy!



Music is falling, falling

The soul gets lost

Then vanishes.


Music melts as silver does.

Music sleeps like lovers

Tired by long parting

And heavy abandonment.


What beauty!

Music plays on

And the letters blaze.


The rich man delights with the hotels female slaves.

The singer delights with his new sweetheart.

But I, like music,

Seek delight only in myself

Only mix with my letters and dots.


How long will I be tortured  

By the bleeding of letters;

The protest of the letters H

The loss of the letters R

In the memory of the lost cities,

The hypocrisy of the letters S

The inversion of the letters B' until death?

My God,

How long will the bleeding of letters torture me?



( T p)

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