LARBI HOUMAIDI

 

A Deceiving Smile

 

It's life.

Hindsight.

I lost everything.

After putting my trust

The sides of its road are sips of pain.

Loving her is a fraud Lie.

 summer is a black spot that cannot be seen.

Waiting is a blind hope,

In its cold winter.

Like a mirror, its devotion is illusion.

 a woman's face with a sweet smile.

Who embraced pain to spread illusion.

I did not want to

Fight torture.

I smile

As I throw myself into hell.

In its cold snow,

And its demanding heat.

In my chest, my heart curls up.

 

 

Land And Heritage

 

Zagora

My land

My identity

Within it

my sighs invade me

I wander in my sand

From the lung of my palm tree, I breathe.

The mirage of Sahara of my life

Sow the dream in my sleep

In morning,

traits of my sorrows

In front of me, dissipate its silence saddens me

These are my roots

Thanks to them

Nobody can annihilate me.

Its love hides inside my eyes

It does not run away from my breath

From its streams, I sip my passion

And I sit on the back of my pride

The light of its stars is my bond 

In the darkness of its nights, my

desires overflow

The borders of its highlands are my chain

Where my body relaxes

Its clay, refresh the particles of my being

Barefooted, in my walk, I am satisfied

visiting it, is my surreal hallucination

The magic of its oasis traps my eyelids

 Its natural fragrance is my passion.

 

In The Hustle And Bustle Of Sorrows

 

She dropped

On my way, a carpet of dates

Dates that did not rot with time

An honesty, in the eyes you see

Even if the mouth did not speak

A mouth that never said bad

Even if,

At the discussion, was sneaking a problem

Her days

stars of her nights are not confused

With daylight

In the hustle and bustle of sorrows

The glare of her eyes light a lamp

vigil of nights

Is praise and repetition of prayers?

After the wind blew

Crossing meadows and seas

Bringing good news to the roots

Which been waiting for water from a source

Or a river

For the basilicas to germinate

The rubble of the branches of a building

Roots, in the heat wave, survived

Waiting for spring

Summers, they have lived.

 

LARBI HOUMAIDI