Adeeb Kamal Ad-Deen
An Attempt at Music
Music is falling, falling
Like a bird,
A bunch of grapes,
So my heart flies with the bird
But my hand can not touch it.
The bunch of grapes touches my lips
But there is no love knife
To cut our sharp emptiness.
And the waterfall comes to me
I become water to meet it,
But I collide with its big stone and drown.
Even the letters made me worn-out.
They are the only visitors in my biggest loneliness,
Who did not hold in their hands:
A sun's bouquet,
A handful of the moon
Or kisses of feathers.
Everybody dressed in the clothes
Of the other
When I found nothing to dress in,
I went out naked to the street
Music is falling
With the nice letters ‘L'
Which are as sweet as children's lips,
With the chirp letters ‘R'
And the whispering letters ‘S'
And the dew of the letters ‘N'.
Music is coming.
I rise from death
To meet it as two orphan children
Sighing on the festival swing.
Since I had acquainted with my blood
I found it surrounded by birds.
Since I had acquainted with my heart
I found it brimmed with alphabets.
Happiness is a ballet dancer
And sadness is a Bedouin
Making earth as a seat for him
To play on the rebec.
My death was admired by me.
But when I tried to repeat it
I went crazy!
Music is falling, falling
The soul gets lost
Music melts as silver does.
Music sleeps like lovers
Tired by long parting,
And heavy abandonment.
Music plays on
And the letters blaze.
The rich man delights with the hotel's female slaves.
The singer delights with his new sweetheart.
But I, like music,
Seek delight only in myself
Only mix with my letters and points.
How long will I be tortured
By the bleeding of letters;
The protest of the letters ‘H'
The loss of the letters ‘R'
In the memory of the lost cities,
The hypocrisy of the letters ‘S'
The inversion of the letters ‘B until death?
How long will the bleeding of letters torture me?
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