-1-
Oh Ali…
Your philosophy is an icon,
Embellishing the chest
Of the universe.
How can I,
With a solitary look,
Make this earth upon which I live,
Its meadows,
Rocks and hills,
Its seas and sandy shores,
Convene within my eyes?
-2-
Its vastness…
Beyond reach,
I cross new horizons,
Planting it,
Exhaust my shoulders,
And with smiling lips,
Harvest it,
Through dreams..
Which I envisaged distant.
-3-
Its crops are scattered groves,
Enriched by the sunshine,
A downpour from the clouds,
Washes its feet,
Then proceeds to capture its beauty.
-4-
Its spring brings forth summer,
And summer welcomes an old guest,
Autumn..
Whom it is yet to meet,
And which hid winter in its shadow,
Year after year,
Without achieving its wish.
-5-
Oh Ali..
Explain to me the creation,
Of this world,
To which we came,
It understood us not,
Nor did we, it.
A handful of its soil,
It gave us,
A body…
The years of which,
When exhausted,
Such body to dust returns.
**
Oh Ali…
Your philosophy is an icon,
Embellishing the chest
Of the universe.
How can I,
With a solitary look,
Make this earth upon which I live,
Its meadows,
Rocks and hills,
Its seas and sandy shores,
Convene within my eyes?
-2-
Its vastness…
Beyond reach,
I cross new horizons,
Planting it,
Exhaust my shoulders,
And with smiling lips,
Harvest it,
Through dreams..
Which I envisaged distant.
-3-
Its crops are scattered groves,
Enriched by the sunshine,
A downpour from the clouds,
Washes its feet,
Then proceeds to capture its beauty.
-4-
Its spring brings forth summer,
And summer welcomes an old guest,
Autumn..
Whom it is yet to meet,
And which hid winter in its shadow,
Year after year,
Without achieving its wish.
-5-
Oh Ali..
Explain to me the creation,
Of this world,
To which we came,
It understood us not,
Nor did we, it.
A handful of its soil,
It gave us,
A body…
The years of which,
When exhausted,
Such body to dust returns.
**
