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joi, 13 iunie 2013


The Epic

The Last Dance of the Blue Swan 

Munir Mezyed 
(Poetry is the way of the spirit towards emancipation and liberation)

O apple of life that has the taste of blood and tears
Arrogant flood of thirst flows from the wounds of soil
Snatching the breaths of the riddle
From the lips of meditation
Piles of grief in my mirror scream:
The shadow is thirsty
And water is wounded and exiled....

O Salt of pain in the bread of dreamy angels
Aphrodite is slain on the Kórach's court
And I steal the sacred fire from the Gods
when I bring it to the intoxicated earth with darkness
Water starts to narrate my story ...

White shadow on the edge of the night rolls down
Towards a light that lifts my cup to its thirsty lips
There is a secretive voice embracing the naked moment
Worried to see the scene….

On the horizon invisible flock of nymphs
Talk about the wandering sea in the sky of my contemplations
It slips into the cup…

Escaping from the blue forest
The God of dreams descends to my memory
He burns the fire of contemplation by the water of talismans
And drenches the water of grief by the fire of charm…!

Thus I behold myself besieged, my love
Between waves of fire and flames of water
And the flower of my breaths which is hung in the breast of the ode / your lips
Wet with words…..!

Ecstasy sets out towards the temples of singing
I see you coming out from the womb of word a blue dream
And when you touch the flower of my words
It blooms ,stops not kissing the fingers of God
Till the rain falls down...

Thus the spirit curves around the naked breast of light
And the columns of imagination burst into flames in the temple of silence
Everything that is unseen turns into a mirror in the divine mirror
Breaking the wings of time
And letting the white shadow to evaporate in the echo of the vision....

Who knows
In which corners of the water
Eternity hides away from the eyes of time...!

The music of the silent dream drips out of the flower of creation
Over the wings of the sunset
The flood passes into the mouth of desire
Thus the earth and the sky collapse in the body of our tale....

The unexpected mist of desire burns off the night
The delirium of silence wakes up from the springs of light
And the waves of dream collide with the weary flocks of
my imagination
Thus the sea loosens its blue tresses on the body of death
the sky becomes lighting lamp with the echo of stars..
And the Sad light between the cold columns of darkness evaporates
Nothing remains from it but one cry telling the tale

O My God
When will the barking of this wet night with insanity abate..?
The tears of words still drip out of the lips of the ode
Not saying a word but silence says a lot....

There is a pavement floating on the surface of divine fragrance
A harbor for the traveling muse to my memory
And I still continue to lift the sea up to the thirsty lips of your voice
Till the end
Nothing is with me but a dream where the sky sleeps in its eyelashes…

From this scattered scarlet fog in the eyes of water
The flocks of light fly towards the sleeping dream in their nests
The waves of darkness, coming from the call of death
Try to penetrate into the horizon of the white vision....

Water, this virgin charm where imagination breaks into pieces
Draws the legends of creation
And drinks the sins of this infinite nihility ...

O Sacred Valley of life that breathes the hymns of the invisible forests
No one sees you but those thirsty trees for singing
And those singing birds in the belly of words
There, you go, embellished with secrets and talismans
To a hanging garden between heaven and earth....

Every dream without sin is tears
Leaking out of the eyes of the word
The vagrant voice still has the obsession of returning to its childhood
Stoning the doors of darkness with the stones of melodies
It sees the flocks of light soaked in the sea of death
Searching for the monument of rain
In the traces of God's fingerprints....

what a delightful rain that kisses with its warm eyes
The cold hand of dream that is hung on the walls of water
And carries the drizzles of voice to the migratory birds
Thus the sea sees me a song flowing
From the mouth of the unseen
Quenching the thirst of spirit....

The murmur of light that shines with prophecy
And wet with the eternal scent of God comes to me
From the breaths of the vagrant word
Intoxicated with the fire of the delicious grief
Carrying the wounds of the daylight
And moans of engulfed evenings with nostalgia
Asking me
Who shelters the droplets of silence ...?
Who empties the basket of memory...?

O light that passes between God and me
The tales of charm still shed the tears of desire in my heart
And my imagination stops not stealing the sacred fire
Till the ode becomes a Heavenly Garden
Bigger than the universe
Deeper than silence
More rebellious than water and imagination
And more delicious than femininity....

A cloud is asleep in the lap of light
Its ray scatters on the intoxicated petals of water
Winter is lost in the emigrant murmur
In the depths of songs which are shrouded in mystery
I behold time withering in mirrors hung by the soul
On the flap of butterfly's wings
And the last night of the sea drowning in the yelling of nectar...

Everything that is invisible, its voice flutters in my memory
And in my imagination, the perfume of the sky bleeds
Over a shadow of mysterious flowers sipping the howling of darkness

The Earth opens its throat by my words
The sacred basil leaves burst out of the rocks of pain
Mezyedistic Odes scented with divine charm
Thus the waves of dream mount up in thirst of soil
And the lotus flower inscribes on the face of the sky
The Secrets of Resurrection.....

O walls of pain in the temple of my longings
Wet songs with love grow on the lips
Sad to leave before we pluck them....

Sorrow opens the windows of memory
To mysterious scent leaking out of the wound of imagination
The poem asks me
Who will teach me how to sip fire from a dewdrop
When nostalgia fills my being …?

Soon it commits its first temptation
Dancing with me between two mirrors
Two shadows
Till the time becomes a woman
Wearing the dresses of the forgotten tale…!

From the notions of sky that is caught
Between the eyelids of imagination
Hymns of perfume pour over the dead body of tales
Lulling the climax rain that tears the shrines of water
The call of light expands in the memory of the trees
And in the dead leaves, the embers of desire grow
Thus the fingers of dream play the tune of fire
On the strings of the night….

Who says that water is without memory
And the suckling light without dream…?!
The sea climbs the ladders of my voice to you
When the shovels of darkness dig the sky of words

What a thrill that sips the honey of silent charm
When silence bleeds the thirst of talking…!
O sunset, do not grieve..!
The buds of light are still stronger than the madness of nihility
The fruits of the vision ripen under the veil of flame
And the shores of oblivion wear the secrets of the dazzling lanterns…

O naked soul for the sweetness of contemplation
Do not you know that my voice passes on the top of the angel’s houses
To the invisible mirror…?!
Thus I see the mouths of stars fraught with delirium of fire
Zoroaster implanting the candles of inspiration in my way
And Minerva dancing naked in the fountain of pure charm/ my ode
Declaring her repentance…

O Temple of fiery clay
O delicious body of water
In my heart a magical bird loves to sing
On the wet twigs of eternity with the dew of the unseen
Teaching me to fly in the shivering of the spirit…

O Habibti
You are the torch of passion in the temple of the eternal light
This crimson horizon where the odes tread on
Breathes the scent of your waiting
Thus night dissolves in the blue dusk by the mist of my shadow
The commandments of Buddha appear visible in my lost tablets
And the drunken boat of Rimbaud floats in my thoughts

Poetry has the aroma of the sacred imagination
The taste of the unseen
The color of eternity that is emigrating to you…!

In the delirium of the fatal seduction
Salome dances
And the prophet with his broken wing
Sits tired in the tears of the poor
Looking at the muse whom beheaded
By the language of the slaves....

All I fear in the temples of night
Is the suicide of the moon on the breast of Herodias
And stars being hanged in the lust of Herod....
I see God Ēl sad, raising his voice and crying : Baal died
The sky was His dream before its birth

Trees no longer bear fruit in their places
And the dead leave their graves to the sea
Over these peaks
Light gathers the weeping of the grass in its basket
Conversing with God by the autumn leaves..

In the heart of the storm
The sun rows towards my voice with torn sails
And in this deep silence that floats on the body of dream
Words look at the mirror of my imagination
Wearing the greenery of the snow
And the whiteness of desire ...

Between the white and blue water
The blind crows of wailing rape the femininity of lilies
In the temples of the word
And the flesh of the sky is cooked to satisfy
The legends of the darkness...

The breaths of your grief shake the hidden heaven
In the eyes of God
The drops of time which are full of imagination leak out
Into the wounded lips of water...

Everything comes to bud silently in my prayers
The blue swans dance their last dance
In the memory of seasons
The angels come from the abandoned houses of Baal
Covered with the rainbows.....

Flock of pigeons in dead horizon
Tries to explain the secret behind the shattering of the wave’s head
The moon appears out of its tomb saying:
It is my head before my birth…
Suddenly the sea yells very loudly:
Ah..! It is the night that rains its emptiness in my throat

On the Sidrat al-Muntahā
The ode is listening
Baffled, shaking her head
She ascends to the sky of imagination
Saying: Oh poet, you are sad and strange …!
How could you understand the game of creation
While you are water drop in a deep dark sea ....?!

I walk on the road of no return towards the first word
Searching for the secret behind the thirst of the sea
And the hunger of the sky
And in the sacred sanctuary of love
I dream of seeing God…!

Sorrows are crystalline trees growing in the memory of autumn
Their fruits are Legends renewing the Psalms of life
Due to my extreme amazement
I see myself kissing the lips of unseen
Thus the convoys of water loom on the horizon of the kiss …

Oh sweet lips that see beyond the imagination of the unseen
How do I explain about shortening the distance between man and God...?
How could I explain I am another Christ who is crucified in the ode/ your lips..?

Long and chilly winter
And the sorrows of light are endless
Will another spring be begotten from my burning..?

The whirlwinds of desire strike the shore of the sleeping dream
In the imagination of silence
And the perfume of the odes searches for the traces of embroidered kisses
On the linen of inspiration...
Thus the boats of memories fly with the wings of contemplation
Towards the sources of light
Penetrating the spirit wall that separates between extinction and eternity
I behold you in the garden of rain a scarlet sky glittering with legends
Where the odes and the eternal fire of passion dance…

There is a nymph in the corridors of the unseen waiting for me
Planting in the soil of my voice
A portrait of butterfly wallowing with the light of talismans in the foam of passion
Portrait of the women of chaos pouring the insanity of femininity
Over the Moon flower
Portrait of thunders roaring with thirst for the milk of words..

Death does not know me!
I am God’s spoiled child
He teaches me the sayings of water and fire
The language of birds and the singing of trees

With the perfume of your breast, the sins of my lips perform their ablution
And the tones of your velvet fingertips in the mirrors of my flesh
Renew the lilies of my birth….!

Dormant kiss is on the side of the road
Picked up by the lips of the rain
Thus the breezes of desire blow out of the mouths of orange trees
Shaking the warm houses of snow in the mirrors of the breast
And in the side of love
The rainbows fall from the memory of the sky
Over a field of lilies playing in the imagination of butterfly…

The call of coffee comes wet with foam memories
Carrying the sorrows of distant water
And love soars in the rain naked
I see myself dissolving the sugar of dream in the bleeding of words
In order to tame the neigh of waiting ….!

Death frightens me not as an event but as an idea
Our breaths slip into the blue flame of love
And by the side of the word
The sea runs towards the echo of our hearts...
The dream which is wet with the sound of dawn
Passes through the soul to your glittering breast
With the dew of the eternal charm
Carrying the hissing of the mad light
Thus the universe ascends the ladders of the unseen
To the call of water
And everything that between us dissolves in the imagination of God...

Munir Mezyed

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