ADNAN AL-RIKANI

 

Your Blue Dress..

 

This blue terrified me..

That sank into your pores

To suck your nectar until the end,

I stood stunned like a boulder

I regret my bad luck..

I strongly blame the color and the shirt

Or is the whiteness of the body,

Without considering him another opinion..?

Oh my God.. with my vision

Everything I said was a joke

The people, or perhaps immoral words,

The shivers never leave me...at that time

It's like a sting

The snake of feelings..

And you, my heart, are poisoned

Your inkwell has a pulse of bitterness

With great distances, Yaafar

It's like I hear laughter

The dress is between your chest

He has fun and dances and doesn't leave.

He caresses the noise of breasts

He lulls their childhood with his touches

And with every burning touch he dares,

Oh, woe to me from every opening that descends

On the thin waist..

With every calamity you take the soul from me

The body is left lying among the graves.

 

I Am The Crow..

 

For five or five decades since the union, I have buried myself under the banks of pain, gathering with me the recitations of abandonment, despite my deserters not liking to emigrate, and leaving the court of the sultans and every crown studded with little ones. I search for the mountains of Al-Qāf for the chants of the Zaila prayer, laid out on a carpet with an echo of an obscure effect, whose return will not make anyone sing. He tasted the bitterness of the brutal night, so we broke the ribs of life and crushed it with familiarity with what we lost to the defeated, and a paratrooper fights against isolated lions thinking that he is flying. I fear that the wind will wake him from his coma, and the strands of ears of wheat that are in love with him fall. Even the bribed scarecrow of the field throws its success to a valuable catch, in distinction from my father’s audacity and machinations. . With a secure peace, I overcome the obsessions of flight, the arms of light are extended and caressing

 

The waterwheels of my city are the only way to solve the problem. Whenever I search, an enclave sweeps me away, not with invincible horsemanship, like a horse drunk on the first cup of siege wine that curdles.

I hope that after absence, the crow will return..!

ADNAN AL-RIKANI