And thus it is with the woman on whom my choice has fallen I can make nothing coherent of her if I fail to perceive what lies beyond her, her significance. And it is but wasted effort when a man seeks amongst the stones for something not of their essence, when he might put them to a worthy use in the building of his temple since his true joy lies not in the extracting of one stone from amongst others, but in the ceremonial order of the stones, once the cathedral has been built. You turned over and looked at who was surprisingįor nothing of what I seek and for which I thirst (and for which, indeed, all men thirst) is on the level of the raw material at our command. Inadvertent brush of breath or hair, first time Than I am to where none of us ever get to go If you’re lucky together, be lucky togetherĪnd acquire in sagging more square footage Of being a boat and that you will both sag Is half of why your bed will sag toward the middle I want to lick a human heart, remember that each of Is never why I’m not breathing and always why When I realize I’m not breathing, my wife Stay happy, honest, stay as tall as you areĪs long as you can using giraffes if you need to This isn’t the SATs, don’t think but stay. Think of theīehind you as a root or think of going to SpainĪnd feeling sorry for bulls or don’t think, It’s too cute, the burro, too realįor him not to ask his mother, can I keep it,Īnd when the other children cry, they’re given With bear traps for mouths) never repeats itselfįor a five year old who refuses to smash candy Of yesterday (three instances of people talking Wanting to bathe in it, hoping the awkwardness I’ll be wielding duct tape, noticing the dew, To chickadees and mourning doves, whose feeder I want to do with you what spring does with the cherry trees. I will bring you happy flowers from the mountains, bluebells,ĭark hazels, and rustic baskets of kisses. I go so far as to think that you own the universe. So many times we have seen the morning star burn, kissing our eyes,Īnd over our heads the gray light unwinds in turning fans.Ī long time I have loved the sunned mother-of-pearl of your body. My savage, solitary soul, my name that sends them all running. How you must have suffered getting accustomed to me, I love you, and my happiness bites the plum of your mouth. While the sad wind goes slaughtering butterflies Now, now too, little one, you bring me honeysuckle, I can contend only against the power of men.Īnd turns loose all the boats that were moored last night to the sky.Ĭling to me as though you were frightened.Įven so, at one time a strange shadow ran through your eyes.
![nizar qabbani every time i kiss you nizar qabbani every time i kiss you](https://www.poemhunter.com/i/poem_images/795/jerusalem-12.jpg)
Here all the winds let go sooner or later, all of them. The sky is a net crammed with shadowy fish. Suddenly the wind howls and bangs at my shut window. Oh let me remember you as you were before you existed. Who writes your name in letters of smoke among the stars of the south? Let me spread you out among yellow garlands. You are more than this white head that I hold tightlyĪs a cluster of fruit, every day, between my hands. Subtle visitor, you arrive in the flower and the water. It seems to me the Arab World had its High Romantic Period about a century after the Occident (this statement accidentally coincides with academia).Every day you play with the light of the universe. This poem is what it is.īrowsing some more Qabbani we discover the recurring metaphor play around writing for love: Moses told the sea he loved his people, and the Red Sea parted, leaving the ichtus and – forget it.
![nizar qabbani every time i kiss you nizar qabbani every time i kiss you](https://www.poemist.com/storage/poem-images/n/nizar-qabbani/every-time-i-kiss-you.jpg)
Is there any religious connotation? I doubt it. The imagery of a sea leaving its place is brilliantly absurd, and indeed captures the all-encompassing feeling of being in love. No tricks here, just the imagination of a mighty sea that is longing along with the poetic subject lying on the shore. I read a simple love poem, translated by B.
![nizar qabbani every time i kiss you nizar qabbani every time i kiss you](https://64.media.tumblr.com/4df8a6690f4cc55dc08828a636181967/tumblr_o04hahY3C11tur1n9o1_1280.jpg)
His poetic style combines simplicity and elegance in exploring themes of love, eroticism, feminism, religion, and Arab nationalism ( Wikipedia). Nizar Qabbani (1923-1998) was a Syrian diplomat, poet and publisher.