Shattered places <br />and the breeze <br />of dawn wakes up on me <br />My shoulder still in slumber <br />A cloud bowing <br />to the flicker of infinity <br />Is it that trees invent their echo <br />or <br />has the blind <br />just dipped his hand <br />in water <br />The poet closes <br />his eyes <br />on a rose <br />of <br />dust <br /> <br />Scratching my window-pane <br />the pine tree <br />lightly shudders <br />under a snow of ashes <br />Smooth water <br />From which paleness <br />did the wind return <br />and throw another topaz in the river <br />Solitude <br />could <br />end with winding paths <br />intoxication <br />trips <br />But whenever I inquire about death <br />a lady stands against me <br />impetuous and mute <br />The night barks here <br />Thumps somewhere <br />And I am drinking <br />Hˆlderlin's wine <br /> <br />A shimmer <br />Then another <br />Enough for the magician <br />to make sure <br />that time is tame <br />that poetry is a call <br />No one saw me <br />quietly opening a drawer <br />to see <br />where did my self <br />sneak in <br />My bones have their own biting frost <br />Is there a name that will go out <br />before me tonight <br /> <br />Clouds upon clouds <br />flutter <br />A leap <br />I almost thought my hand <br />was made of clouds <br />Play with my poetry's lock <br />I say <br />I'm a lantern <br />a rug <br />a snow <br />a wall <br />Two starts kidnapped my hand <br />For a second <br />I watched it <br />tremble <br />weep <br />Am I <br />or am I <br /> <br />Translated by Anton Shammas<br /><br />Mohammed Bennis<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/rose-of-dust/
