Peace of Meaning

Adeeb Kamal Ad-Deen

 

 

 

The spirit’s flower blossomed; the spirit is water

During the mindlessness of time, I plundered

My swing; it was a state of weeping

I turned out, as it might be, to be a cloud

Departing, today, towards the remotest places

I bend as a king; torn by eagles,

Bats and questions

O Bomb! Be silent

I come, today, out of your bitter cave

I hide in your corridors

I happily stab the wind

I hide like the sleeping years
 like unoppressed king.

 

 

( TM )

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