NIGHTLY STRINGS "NOCTURNES"

At that hour of the night’s lust
Golden sparrows of thorn—shrubs
Bestow the glories of ancient—old
Arabian kings; and
Bushes of the wilderness diffuse
The warmth of a Bedouin girl;
Congest and pause the almond’s_
Milk; of her offerings at night drips
And beneath the breasts;
A flask— I.

At that hour when things were
Absolute sob, on the camel I was;
In the eternal night stars engrossed
Meeting with open arms, the spirit
Of the desert, O thou Bedouin; In
Migration—absorbed, thyself
Supply; before the Empty Quarter:
With a water drop.

How did it sneak into this cage_
locked; as a smell of night?
How did it slink like an almond—
Blossom; into a book of mystical songs?
How did it prowl this savage
Suffering aflame; around but
Noticed— I did not, as
Escape and fears; in me it writes,
Its eyes in my heart wipes;
In the ecstasy of a moment at night?!
O holder of the arcane lantern unseen;
In the darkness of thy eyes!
From the language of sorrows sing
For my soul a song.

***

O bird of light; fetched
My soul at night; as doves
To the cosmic source tote
In an overflow of a glut of fear,
On me thou were heartsore.
Thy space had carefully washed
In a mud—wearied soul,
The mud’s exhaust.

Departing this mud ere long,
Mud depletes; mud worn.
Under the night’ cloak; a time
Spent intimate-close with people of
The street types; all princely powerful
The moment when the night falls.
In every woman; dozed he, with
What in the palms of heat;
Orchards in her he stowed.

Of lightning O bird!
Desire of warmth I; a woman
want, for warmth I am; ardor,
A body of warmth be dying for, in
sweats she; in my hands glows
Like the heaven’s keys;
As my sins; of wrong deeds,
Alike the life—remains,
And illusions Mine,
That I did in thee hold.

Came thou of lightning O bird;
A vision in my dreams; out of
Palms of heavenly groves,
O bearer of the revelation
Mystery of the orient dusk:
By the darkness in my days unfolds;
To homeland my greetings bestow
When in the arms of Morpheus
The people are.

***

Been thou to the core?
It has a fire; nebulous—soft!
And inflates of the discovery; the depth—
Within thee the mysterious unknown,
For unto nihilism brings a revealing path.
By revelation; thou in mystery disclose—
Said hours of the winter’ night.
Fire with, whence thou tryst,
Rape and the grace plunder;
What—is in language of words,
Tops into chaos my soul turns;
A moment before falling in love.

***

Wells two of a black lust;
Of the thighs; apace bring,
The movement of a naked woman;
Drunkenness lukewarm; gleams in
Her eyes; a mystic sob
And a sodden—ember ablaze is;
Bedewing a floral sleep.
Like a perfume decamps she, so
I catch her and she in my palms melts.
Betwixt I bury my fervent nose;
The breasts and they at me laughs.
O bird... in love I and I do not know
How, Why, Who is, she...
Benighted—I; artless nescient
For love is to—not know.
Discerns thou what ONE is like,
When in love falls?
A crazy tryst of the rivers—All;
Mythic pure in a forest of light
From his tear; roves
Dying as an eternal tryst.

***

The body of wax in fire blooms;
Of the Levant I— see
The history—full
Almost pages I skipped
That of the Umayyad throne,
Chokes me thence a bitter wind
The words scatter; admix
And full I feel of regret and fear;
Commix the wind with an ardent voice
That of a righteous friend,
Knocks on the king’s door;
The usurper, first born
Trumpeting a revolution.

***

At that hour of nightly lust
Soulfully; the birds of thorns;
A female preen,
My mother had me composed; out
Of The nightly honey is; in
A flower—fig, left me in the grove;
On a friendly warm soil,
Guarded by a green stone,
Of a knife whence I had a dream,
The powdery on my libs twitch;
Sugar—sweet of lesbian lust.

Where did art thou leave;
Thy compeers of spirit—cups?
One by one they crossed
The sugar—bridge, now
In the eternal they meet;
Alone was I— ditched;
Staring into the spirit—drinks;
In silence on the heart I
Hardly pressed, drunk
I will be drunk deep for
The world is but night—filled.

***

Why reproach me as for repent to bring!
Did the seagull weeps what heavy were
Of weight in his broken wings?
Had it rue in lifting; the goodness—rich
A women sinful off the ground?
Did God in creation the booze repent
And of all the earthly sweet—sins;
Had he his hands washed?
Sins are of moral wrongs!

Into the orchard of secrets thou come
On the smallest rosebud; God I show
Thee, goodness effuse of his feet
And on; longing smudged to
Steeds in the wild— ride.
Letters of feminine; on his hooves melt.
As long as there the night is; a wolf
Will l wherefore refuge take
in the spirit—drinks chaste,
And misfit is this lustful body!

***

In a night of passion and love;
Composed—I my mother had;
So at night I seep, the snow to
When it melts; I ask men and ice.
Left me on the soil warm of
Orchard under the bule sky
The poor’ collect and assemble me;
Fate—written is this All, so
I cried in sweeping tears,
Then came onto raisins—sweet;
The abundance of the tear drops.

***

O bird of lightening; on verge
Is of drying the water of life,
In my soul open I keep;
The long—forsaken temples,
If thy heartbeats strange I hear; rouse
The symbols and all graphemes
Ascetic are; calling thee;
Thou art beloved.

Before thy glimmering eyes prithee;
I— with the remnants for me; left by
Passing days; array my conjoined palms.

At my soul’s horizons are thee;
A sunset and a sunrise,
Into seclusion I took thee and told:
On them thou hath O trusty mine
Lavished in the spirit—drinks,
So why me did they pierce, and limb
The future’s keep had they cut?
The cosmos hale and hearty was;
Why down the coffin of sorrow brings
In my well—being to be entombed?

***

Aye, of lightening O bird;
Mirage; I saw thee, did
Accompany my caravan on;
The horizon of time—past.
Glimmering in darkness—total;
Thy two letters in my lung,
Awake—full; I saw thee
Gurgling from two young breasts,
Tormented I by the fiery lust;
Ever since I was milk—
Warm and fair in the breast,
And weeping was my lib of
The lust singe in the air.

Hark thou to the beastly gloom!
Of sob my language drawing near.
From my sight thou barely escaped
That thou hath not tried
A pretext in language to scrawl
Of my window thy escape.
Avoid thou of the language to scribe;
That of a world—lost,
Sunk are we each day in
That language—lost.

Dewy are the lanterns of God
Lisping in slumber thy stars;
There at eternity’s gates.
Out for thy attendance I watch
In a turquoise of mad lust
Berserk in an oleander flower
Grey from my motherland
Like that of the people’s peace.

Awaiting for thee I gaze;
Tapping on the forsaken door,
When in confused eyes;
Thou looks and stares,
Arouse thence in my orbs;
The desert of ascetic love!

***

O bird, there in my furthest of heart
Reached they and buried a child
Sobbed I and into flame
My tears brightly blazed
Thence of the life—graves
Unveiled my nature at dusk
So may perplexing I seem
In the eyes of the thorn—libs,
My orbs; the inferno’s blaze,
As if brimming of sins—wrong;
Is the azure sky of God.

Dozed not but with naked dulls
And rhapsodic with them at dawn
In the cradle in time played.

Oft had the God of lust
Kissed the bridge of my bed
And my hand deep I tucked
For his smile to grasp
Short came my fingertips
Tho’ buoyant did he escape
Dreams of my life—time;
Had the endless void filled
By the heavenly visions of thee
Yesterday thou arrived late
Alas, that thou has
For that the pirate's departure
To the sea of darkness drew near.

***

Late were of lightening O Bird;
About I to the door of life
Closed—ditched eternally set
Shoes old to life worn
Offtake from the days filth.

Hark thou to the beastly gloom:
Beyond the oceans of horrors
Haunted are by boiling water
There is a castle of silence filled
Amidst is a terrifying well;
Like atop stacked graves
Last of which to a prison lead
Midst the prison a cage lay
Wrapped in warblers of death
Holding remains of a dead—bird
Three centuries for burial await.
Centuries past since my soul;
I— in a tomb did confide.
Centuries past since my soul;
Alive—consigned to the grave.
Centuries past since my first sob
Searching for a breast to suckle
For empty I have been
Needing of a woman’s milk
Gracefully drips in my flask.

***

At that hour when desire is;
A cooing of doves a male—stud
Deserted on a mountain afar;
Onto the riddle in secrets engulfed
Redolent of wild apples what_
Bites like a lecherous wolf;
A darting scent savor—soft
I enfold my fiery wings.

The human sorrow I blindly roam;
In a movement like a sea crab
As if in ecstasy—eternal I
An ocean that of time dreams
Of years, millenniums and thousands
Ashore throwing its shells.

Ashamed made me of myself;
This excessive rave spreads;
Sorrow that of nations—wide;
Which in my heart rests.
For I speak the prophet's word:
Doth the seeds of pleasure
Extend in the universe womb;
Blades and green—flames;
Judgments eternal did give.

As for thou returned hath;
Dove that on a mountain deserted
Now by some rock; of a river_
lone; practicing its secret habit
Been thou informed of thereof?

***

Who tells my lonely soul
To extinguish the lantern of love;
And set this window closed?
For stripped like a newborn
Has the ethereal dust of night,
Burning in consciousness had
Been, spaces of green—vast
So I lit a match—blue
Glowing amid the green flames
So that I may, in the fire intense;
Unto divine visions come;
Whiles the moment could too
Me— avow and know.

Whom then out-comes 'twixt;
A swift doe and a wolf’s howl?
Amongst palm trees; escorts my escape,
Half the road in the grove?
Doth after the half we reach; aplomb
Says; joyfully with thou I stay.

***

O king of lightning at wings
In the eternal sorrows of soul;
How was it like a blossom tucked
As a vision in a mystical whim?
Its eyes in my heart wipes
At a moment of romance at night.
In me write and rouse, what?!

At that hour of the night's lusts
To hamlets stolen of land—lost
Towards the chambers of beds;
A stealth prowl the wind's king
There in the desert farthest
Stray is the feminine fuzz
In the wilds like a hoopoe's head
Teeming by a heavenly warmth
Like an ember of night; red
Over the ember I am, bare
Like an urn flipped.

***

At that hour when things were pure lust
On the camel I was of the sky; imbued
By eternal stars of night, greet into
Me; the spirit of the desert roams.
A lightning branched in my lungs; river
In the endless lonesome let off.

My heart is a desert dove;
Cooing; by the dew shines
Casts its shadow a song,
Extends its beak to the desert sun:
A language of symbols and code,
By whom of the light informed;
Its talismans solely unveiled,
Shadows are languages mute.

Was at that hour I;
A confession; tied—tongue,
Over mute spaces I wish|
Some utter divine love,
For a kiss a mouth—sweet,
For the revolution a sword.

Whence for those I scribe;
Whom the cryptic able to grasp.
To love I owe belonging some,
That I to the masses belong
Which to a pyramid of might;
Had their anguish raised,
Of old Tyre and Bosra had;
Stadiums of glory established.
Kindled by the towers of Babel;
The azure wide sky of God,
To the hungry so I belong,
As to those who strive,
I belong to the martyr who;
God’s face on his lungs;
Gashed by a friendly fire,
But contend with hope, as
Hath he himself armed.

***

At that night when thing be
Absolute silence
By a dagger and exile
Loved me my homeland
With the dagger in my heart
I migrate in the desert vast.

For the heart wonted exile and
By lightning had been taught;
To mellow to maturity’s end
So it open freely—falls
Into the sweet—taste
When inside it, it pours
Thence trumpets eternal roared
Heard and sleepless becomes;
My soul whence she knew;
The key hidden in its parent lock,
Knew how it links; to the lock
Concealed within the offspring key
Then All things licit unfurls.
Heed thou in migrations absorbed
O Bedouin of the desert vast;
Illness grew heavy—bald
For the night thou ought
Thy drool to store and keep
For a guide must always be
For this night—long;
Pointing the path of wells
Convincing by fiery will the camel:
To plod in the endless desert’s cold.

***

The occupied paradise I depart
Like a sad river—lone;
Fleeing the sewers filth,
Remains true to its course,
Of her I ask where,
Will she my lanterns lit?
For raped to sorrow; the poor soul
Did the darkness of night.

Within me a life, O Lord
Thy clay dies, and sulfur burns
Such maddening thoughts
Thy clay is of imprints full;
By consciousness made corrupt,
Years built of an age long
Thy clay by the roads tossed
At that night of exile and rain.
Unto thou I had come by
Poems guided and led,
Then how can I point out, thou
When embers my poems are?
By tears made—I; soft;
A wedding kerchief; hushed
Take me and thy lanterns wipe
So with the secrets of stars All
Shine I with them at night.

Blame thou the infidels not
For hunger is their father, O Lord!
Ranked I with the infidels starved
For as long of the weight of sins
Prostrating the others are
From thy anger O’ God,
Refuge in thee I seek.

I enfold my wing at dawn on
Thou, O’ Lord of the sea stars
Like the last bird on land
Oceans seeking I crossed
Then the spirit; absolute
My frail body had wrapped;
In cruelty, narcissus, and time,
And of the unseen’s wind
To a path; had me fetched
Rippling are in the hours—small
Where the first bird chirped;
Ablaze on the horizon—blue.

***

(Painting: Jean Delville Trearue of Satan 1895)