I'd love to dally with your eyes
Purer than wine,
Finer than diamond waiting in it's pit
And with a magic brush
I want to draw you my sighs
And hang them on paths
That never wear out of your feet.

I'd love to burn you my incense
And in your hair pin my life flower
Picked of boon orchard
That dangled around you.

You, who's more charming than oasis,
More reviving than the water drops
And more merciful than the palm's shade
In a desert envious of the light
Glaring of your eyes.

When the forest bird heard me
Singing a folk song to your name,
They contended me,
Because they couldn't learn it by heart
And pour it all in your ears.

You, the comfort for my body and thoughts.
In sorrow moments steeling my life
And dropping me on your paths
Like the orphans
Who sensate their mums smell
In your robe's pleat
And you cheered and delighted
When they ran to you cheerfully.

Hide me in your bosom, hide me.
I aged, and still don't know
The secret of the torment in your chest,
The look that's hiding things
And the trembles in your hands.

Let me cache in your hair
And hide from my suspicions trend,
Lean on your shoulder
Imitate these fondled stars
Leaning on my mountains shoulders.

Draw me as your prince charming,
Strengthen me with your shield
To return the strikes
And take the oppression nightmare
Away from my people
And radiate nights with my sword.

What's the point of my life?
And you are beyond my stretched arm,
Harder than my dreams
That aged between my imagination's pages.

Let me cling to you
To the floating hair plaits
Like the baby who desires a swing ride
And fears the blasts
The clouds that could reach him
Every time he swings high.

O, you greater than a word said
When we were roving,
Counting the kids,
Running with then
To conceal them of the traitor's dogs eyes.

O, you the tenderness tears,
The heartbeat of a father
Awaiting his son's return.
I loved you without a story,
You the story of my homeland,
And the pain's scripture
That made me hate myself!!

I loved you, girl of my homeland,
With all your suffering,
With all the bruises
They instilled on your wrists,
On the breast
Purer than all the holy books they read.
I loved you
Till you became the wedding ceremony
That I'll never let it escape my mind.

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  1. غير معرف10:10 م

    You are an incredible writer, Charbel, but I think you need a new translator. The one you currently use is taking way your magic, not to mention the fact that their English is not very good.
    You deserve only the best of everything, including the best translator!