I press my head down It’s the result of insomnia oppressing me I press my head to you and to my miserable memoirs The night is pressing me too But I’m so tough
Now it’s the sound of your scream coming And there is blood And there is the smell of tear and tear gas A soldier is pressing my head down by his boots Someone is pulling the trigger Now there is a gun between my eyebrows I feel the blood pressure in my head The cowards have run I press a cold hand in my cold hand
Someone was calling my name all the night I feel the pressure of a lump in my throat My throat is wounded And I hear you screaming in the ear of someone who is all dead I feel the pressure of life And its wounds And its marks And I feel the pressure of the graves upon the solitude of dead bodies
I press my fists to the wall and I swallow my cry You are still screaming in the wild howls of the wind I press my head down A vessel is pressing a nerve And I press a bottom to flash my life back To go back to a scene where I’m opening a window towards light Where everybody rise out of the graves Where I hold a warm hand in my hand And we are laughing in our homes and in our rooms There I hear the sound of peace And my heart beats normally And that’s a better day with a green background
‘Why was Adam driven from the garden?’ The pupil asked his master. ‘His heart was hardened With images, a hundred bonds that clutter the earth Chained Adam to the cycle of death following birth. He was blind to this equation, living for something other Than God and so out of paradise he was driven With his mortal body’s cover his soul was shriven. Noblest of God’s creatures, Adam fell with blame, Like a moth shriveled by the candle’s flame, Into history which taught mankind shame. Since Adam had not given up his heart To God’s attachment, there was no part For Adam in paradise where the only friend Is God; His will is not for Adam to imagine and bend.’
I am cowering in an clock that does not let go of the evening The cage is tight No foetus can form in this narrow waist Every door I knock at There again a policeman arrives without a sneeze Squeezing me with words Breaking a twig With nowhere to graft it to Except on a branch that turned to letters of I love you
Where does it come from This water this question that grows takes root And without a father gives the answer A son
How can I get up with a clock That is in a coma And dive into the dusk
Like a dog I’m short legged The cats are watching And silence That carries the alphabet of suicide Doesn’t break out of me Until lips forsake “I love you” And the foetus is detached Under each poultice Point per point of my body A policeman is on his beat
A tear drop alights From a car that crosses my eye And stops Behind a light that embodies red And then drops into bumps and coughs And pulls a hand break Stop! Like a light that turns amber When the street is quiet
If I don’t run away In these high heels To the last light Someone would want to give me a ride With hands that go green like a bud in my eyes And then blow cigarette smoke Into my eyes
I am caught in Love’s web so deceitful None of my endeavors turn fruitful. I knew not when I rode the high-blooded stead The harder I pulled its reins the less it would heed. Love is an ocean with such a vast space No wise man can swim it in any place. A true lover should be faithful till the end And face life’s reprobated trend. When you see things hideous, fancy them neat, Eat poison, but taste sugar sweet.
Oh, women of this land! There is no life, nothing. This is nothing but failure and grief. Death for us is hundred times Better than such a life. This life is nothing But a symbol of slavery. Beware, women of this land! Be friends to one another! Dissolve your links with men! Why do you take on the name of Your husband, though you have A name of your own?