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Enter Poem or Quote (Required) Positions: Part Two Arabic Poem by: Bushra Al-Bustani Translated into English by: Inaam Al-Hashimi (Gold_N_Silk) ================ (4) The Position of Love ----------------------- Your love is the twin of clear water It sprays aromatic mist on the wing of an angel Staying up all night to guard our two moons. All my bare-foot poems Play in the terrace of your heart. If you were not at the door, All these roses on the terrace Would not be smiling. If it were not for my hand in your The curtains would not be trembling in fever. Your love is a tear drop I defeat once, But it defeats me times and times. Your fingers are smart and intensely glowing Their wandering in the mazes tempts me. Your presence in the pulse of my words Teaches them how to dance in far away courts. The violet is sad With open arms, it waits for you. Your love Is the only sin That refused to disown me, Therefore, I dwelled in it. In your arms, my safety lies I wake it up whenever my pains waken. Your love Is the arbor that I have not reached yet. Your love Is the bias I refuse to free myself from And am not afraid of getting lost in it. Your love is the privation The springs of which I seek to quench my thirst I am she who is haunted by the bliss of ecstasy Always leaving and heading to places you do not know, As the routes of longing take me to the warmth, I wonder, like a yearning garden, Are you with me? And without waiting, the sky pours down gifts, Glimmers on top of each other, And my garden unfolds lilies and anemone. So I ask my god, How could fire produce lilies, nightingales and butterflies? Why does the universe dither Like your waves that stumble on my stupor? In the stupor, I no longer fear you. I discovered that the eternal light is your fire, My paradise without you is a mirage and a chunk of the night So, I choose eternity Since it is the start line for two forearms Committing the act of shy shells And these forearms are yours. So, teach me, Teach me a game of more suffering As our skins, germinate nothing but torment. Teach me a game, in which you are the only winner, So that I have the sense of victory with you. *** (Part Three: The Position of Grief follows) ---------------- Translated from Arabic by: Em. Prof. Inaam Al-Hashimi USA *Bushara Al-Bustani is a poet from Iraq
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