YASSIN KHADER AL-QAISI – IRAQ
FROM MY BALCONY
I look at the distant horizon
And weave my alphabets from the sun’s threads
The wind rushes, enveloping my soul and carrying it
To those distances
And scattering it in the sky as rain..
It falls, falls on its rose
And I am dew above it
So it kisses me
To saturate its rusty leaves
From the gusts of its scent
I till its soil and water it with my tears
So it blossoms as we used to
Wait for spring
When we are rescued.
Prepared Angela Kosta Executive Director of MIRIADE Magazine, Academic, journalist, writer, poet, essayist, literary critic, editor, translator, promoter