Graves of Meaning



Adeeb Kamal Ad-Deen






A female forest is breaking off relations

In an ambiguous music and wearing red colors

Until I have ascertained that water

Partially represented my shape.

I am vanishing and turning into a wolf

Near the glass of the forest

A wolf searching for his she-wolf.

I am the night, the only night,

What is happening?

The forest is playing.

The play here is fierce and as sharp as a knife.

The finger is raising something.

The laughs are tearing off the clouds of the room.

The female refuses, a female near a female,

Nothing but a female.

Time of female, give me a banquet!

Do you play with the forest near me

While I  tear into times of desires?

Do not scream, nor stab;

I am thrown into the past of the past.

The forest refuses, becomes angry

And hides its laughs.

The colors flow: the green is embraced by the red,

The blue is crystal,

The yellow uncovers the colors of my torment

So, at ten years old I become a boy

At twenty years old I became a monster

At seventy years old I turn into a cave.

The forest is playing.

Look! Stare! Nothing but blind staring!

The forest strips something, wears charm, grows and shows

The forest is ambiguous days breaking at night

As a language invites the sea vehemently.

The female laughs by the sea.

That finger uncovers something recklessly.

An aged man inside me torn by the torrential flow of colors

A man tortured by a female body sleeps for years

And wakes up on a dam of lusts

A child tried by the night and leafed a down of birds.

The forest is a female of light.

The forest is playing. Look! Stare! Spend your lifetime!

Nothing but the wicked staring!

The forest is a comedy.

The aged man passed away.

The female is satiated by her play.

She wore a black dress to cover

The nakedness of fresh body.

The child cried, cried at midnight.

And I, carrying the aged man's coffin

With female's colors and child's cry,

Went away to water graves.





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