Ancient Reveries
Each day, a red sun arises from the emerald river,
In the acrobatic leap in the dark with watermelon smell.
In the evening, the pale moon it is dressed up in silver
By a dervish who changes it in a dome where he`ll dwell,
As prisoner of the unmovable being, just like Parmenides;
The moving sands of the desert covered old Coptic monasteries;
Between sky and sand, in old pajamas, the Sphinx and pyramids
Breathe with the slow motion of the camels in ancient reveries
About tears and saints in white tents with summer’s distillation left:
Koran’ effects unto communities’ lives with beauty were bereft.
Museums and parks-cemeteries and ritual prayers in bitter Cairo I meet:
Under One single eye, invisible stranger I rest, in the hot night’s street.
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