Poems by Mahmoud Said Kawash
AN INCOMPLETE DIALOGUE
How beautiful it is for me to have achieved this before the era of insanity preys on us!!
That day we met accidently and without prior arrangements
Our conversation was limited to a brief question and a long answer
The details were not completed, and the continuity of the conversation was left
To be continued later, if God extends our life
I asked her about her health and conditions
As well as about the conditions of her family members
One by one, without forgetting any of them
Then I asked her about the latest developments in her wonderful story
With the knight of her dreams, who had just returned from his estrangement
Where he spent few years which were difficult and harsh for her
So, she recounted the story as I thought it would be from the beginning to the end
The beautiful creative poetess answered me saying:
That day I met him after the length of longing, the torment of the spirit and the lamination of the heart
I was wearing my purple coloured dress
Adorned with the best ornaments, roses and flowers
Perfumed by the most luxurious and expensive Parisian scents
I could not calm myself until after I drank the almond blossoms from his eyes
His warm breathes burned my cheeks
The eyelashes of his eyes were showered with the fragrance of my perfume
In his presence I resumed the languages I had lost
The music came out of all the musical instruments
Music blew up from the piano machine, saxophone, accordion, clarinet, flute, guitar, drums and tambourines
Sending expressive and influential tunes and rhythms
That day I kissed him thousands of kisses and didn’t stop until the sugar froze over his mouth, the joints loosened and the thirst quenched
The roses, daffodils, tulips, anemones, orchids, carnations and chrysanthemums became sweaty
The gems, corals, rubies, pearls, agates, turquoises, gold, silver, diamonds, emeralds and aquamarines glowed and became brighter and brighter
Then she sighed and added:
How beautiful it is for me to die silently in the sea of his eyes and become a martyr in his whim!!
How beautiful it is to have achieved this before the era of insanity preys on us!!
Before the currents wrestle us and the tumultuous waves pound us from all directions
Before something happens suddenly and changes my opinion
Before the poem breathes out, turns into a lifeless corpse and prepares for its funeral
Here, she turned and sighed successively and continuously and said:
Our conversation has to have a rest until all the chapters of the story are completed!!
Since that time, we were not destined to meet again and the doubts mixed with certainty, regarding the completion of the chapters of the story
Perhaps the conversation will be completed later
Then the story will have an end and be closed forever
Let us wait and see!!
I hope that the end will be pleasant and happy, as she wished while the knight of her dreams was in his estrangement.
WHICH READS FIRST, THE HEART OR THE SIGHT?
With you, life is blessed and has the fragrance of faith
Crammed with confusion, bewilderment and anxiety
You are the pearl of oceans and the secret of beauty on earth
How splendid the poem becomes when your letters adorn it
When it turns into a bow that hits with the arrows of rhymes
When it becomes a bullet that goes without a deadline
When life begins with it and knows no end or limit of time
How powerful your pen becomes when its ink flows
Draws you magical pulses inside me
Writes you golden verses on the strings of my heart
Makes roses grow on my cheeks
Makes almonds bloom on my mouth
Makes the drip drips from between my lips
Makes questions overrun over the fringes of my eyes
Glows and spreads light of optimism in my soul
Slides a burning flame on the snow of my heart
Then excites it and sets fire inside its four rooms!!
Oh the angelic prince of my heart
Am I not the neighbourhood doe who loves you
Who searches refuge from thirst in your pastoral fields
Am I not wandering among the sides of your meadows
Looking for water, because you are the rain and the blessing
Aren’t your letters looking like diamonds in form and content
While I am monotheistic in your own world
Life is now reduced to a gesture from you
When it was not reduced before to a gesture from the moon
Not even from the deafening stone or the echo in a deep valley
O silent sea, I know that your waves indicate the start, not the end
You should know that the heart is no longer asking the eyes:
Is it ebb or tide and which reads your letters first, the heart or the sight?