The crow

Adeeb Kamal Ad-Deen




When the crow passed

Over the head of Death, it said:

“I am the crow!”

“So what?” Death said.

“I am the black crow!” the crow said.

So Death laughed and said:

“For me you are whiter than ice!”


Yesterday I remembered you

You have no name nor address.

You whom I forgot before

The beginning of the flood.

So I danced without arms and feet.


When they removed my naked body to you.

People laughed at the whiteness of my heart

And at the blackness of my corpse.


Music of pain is unforgettable

And lies of love are as true as

The kiss of a teenager.



Why does time haunt you?

Is it because you have breasts of pomegranate,

A belly of ivory,

Eyes narrow as a southern boat,

And a fate that looks like the crow’s?


Music played our fate;

There were not so many colours.

There was black as blood

And there was white as blood too.


I return to poetry

As usual

Because of you.

I return to see Time

Beating my letters with his great whip.

I return to see my biggest dot

That looks like a big city

Losing in the sea.


Your kisses did not reach.

Maybe because the postman

Was jealous of me.

Maybe because your language

Was white as the crow.


Your kisses did not reach

Though your neck was warm.

Yes, you were in  your nineteenth summer.


You were full of music,

Moony as a summer night,

Obedient as a jewel that lights in the dark,

Silly as a parrot that lisps,

Foolish as a mad man’s laugh.


You who taught me to dance:

Dance over the corpses of letters

And over the remains of burnt clocks.


You are my crow.

This is what I had to say

At the beginning of the poem

To relieve others and relieve myself.


( Tp )


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