El batanabi wrote the heart of our silken tanab, what need have we for you . No poem has ever enough red but that its blood might river beneath the veins of its people. Beneath the desert sun, one man by one man by one man breathes six. Thousands of tons wrung sonorous from the sky. Where is god . Blackeyed woman, the street dogs are running wild. Will you save me . Simple white ignorance, even the desert has gone into hiding. There is no more meaning here than the crested moon holds towards a dying grove of date trees. I am for the arabic, for the transcription of the arabic, zato dates over firebaked bread. The twin rivers have already called for us a history. Our poets have already explained to us the desert. By what right have you come . Who have you have seen the rustic crane in the tree, no chimes but for its delicate wide beak, ushers an intemperate reprieve . 33 beads on a string, why pretend to know beyond the presence of click. Thank you. Please welcome gale sher the first on
Six. Thousands of tons wrung sonorous from the sky. Where is god . Blackeyed woman, the street dogs are running wild. Will you save me . Simple white ignorance, even the desert has gone into hiding. There is no more meaning here than the crested moon holds towards a dying grove of date trees. I am for the arabic, for the transcription of the arabic, zato dates over firebaked bread. The twin rivers have already called for us a history. Our poets have already explained to us the desert. By what right have you come . Who have you have seen the rustic crane in the tree, no chimes but for its delicate wide beak, ushers an intemperate reprieve . 33 beads on a string, why pretend to know beyond the presence of click. Thank you. Please welcome gale sher the first one is why did she care . Why did she care, she wondered, laying aside the book. A dim light could be seen possibly from a cabin reaching in not for the word, but for the space which a time. Fat drops driven violently side ways. The m
Do not cry for leila or for him, but drink the red wine and grow your love doublely, one for the ruby in the cup, the other for its rouge on your cheek. Bombs rape the eyes of the sleeping assyrian gods. As if it were only a sand box, a few worthless grains of sand. Ill cut for you the last swathe of blue from the sky, sever my and if youll let me, but for 5 minutes more, leave me to sleep without the knowledge of war. A kanun weeps near the funeral of music. Having been occupied, notes mourn for the loss of their song. I am for a concert of horses, the origin of gazelle leapt up from the heart of al gubungi. Have you made small steps into the desert within us or listened for the gutterals longed deep within our throats, you would have come bearing gifts. I have nothing in red that i would not abide in green. El batanabi wrote the heart of our silken tanab, what need have we for you . No poem has ever enough red but that its blood might river beneath the veins of its people. Beneath th
Let you hear, however briefly, their deadly harmony. This is called markings and its in two parts. One, the last is leveled. The eye witnesses are moved to a yard, a street. The road is made smooth. Two, we have the ability to not regret, not one death and then exactly two even before another. And in this approximate silence we have felt that not regreting has spared us loneliness. Called at the door. You did not tell me about these hours, how thick they were and wounded. I hear myself telling someone to punch me just to figure the order of my beliefs. Someone else in my clothes who would view this and move on. Explain again the conditions that will bring along the morning and what it is here that convenes the night. And then the last poem is called upon living. They shove your feet out of the smokestack kitchen. They narrow the big sea sba a line of your sweat and then they take away your last word and then they take away another. Now you put the keys back in your pocket and now you p
Sister . I am your sister. Oh, dimusi, who is your mother . I am your mother. The day that dawns for you will also dawn for me. The day that you will see, i will also see. I would find my brother, i would comfort him, i would share his fate. When she saw the sisters grief, when anana saw the grief of gestana, she spoke to him gently. Dimusi is no more. I would take you to him, but i do not know the place. Then a fly appeared. The holy fly circled the air above ananas head and spoke, if i tell you where dimusi is, what are you give me . Anana said, if you tell me, i will let you frequent the beer houses and taverns. I will let you dwell among the talk of the wise ones. I will let you dwell among the songs of the minstrals. The fly spoke. Lift your eyes to the edges of the steppe. Lift your eyes to arali. There you will find gestananas brother. There you will find the shepherd, dimusi. Anana and gestanana went to the steppe. They found dimusi weeping. Anana took his and and said, you wil