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(1956 / Oman)

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From My Room To The Café

In the morning when I wake up,
the world wakes in my head
with creatures and screams smashing my bones.
I leave my room -
it's like a cave filled with the slain -
and shuffle off to the café.
I look intently at my cup - it's like a snake
relaxing on a summer afternoon
and think: 'This is my last cup in this city! '
But morning is still at its outset,
and I'll have to go through wars and kisses
and will only discover their flavour
after centuries

Submitted: Friday, November 15, 2013
Edited: Friday, November 15, 2013


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Translated by: Abdulla al-Harrasi

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