Your voice is like a Persian carpet
Your eyes are two Damascene sparrows
That flutter between two walls
And my heart travels like a dove
Above the water of your hands, where it takes a nap
Beneath the shadow of your bracelets.
I love you…
But you see, I am afraid to lose myself in you
Afraid to be reborn
Afraid to melt into you
For now, experience has taught me
To sidestep the love of women
And the waves of the sea.
I am not questioning your love…
Because it is my day—
And how could I question the sun of the day?
I am not questioning your love
For it decides on which day to come, and on which day to leave.
Moreover, it dictates the timing and the shape of dialogue.
Let me pour you tea—
You are the fairy of this morning,
And your voice is a beautiful inscription
On your Moroccan dress.
