TWO NEW POEMS

Two new poems by: Mahmoud Said Kawash
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1) HESITATION

I hesitate a lot
Every time I write about you, I find myself drowning in the darkness of my soul
I fear that the light will reflect me and I will see you
And I will not feel you!
Does every meaning reach you with premeditation
Or do my letters leave me in a moment of silent nakedness
And take you as a veil extending over the horizon of my lines?
And with this, I resolve to watch their steps
Perhaps I will seek the shores of your warmth
Or even the touches of your eyes will be reflected on me
And in them I will realise myself
That dwells there in the depths of memory
Once a meeting was
Behind the walls of wishing!!

2) WHAT A MEETING!!

I see you folding my flower
To meet a distant spring
Waiting beyond the horizon
I see you throwing my suns far away
Leaving me in my darkness
Not realising that you rise every morning
From the pains of my endings
Insisting despite all challenge to destroy my beginnings!!

Autumn of life falls when my warmth is exhausted by snow
In your hands is a whisper of my separation
And life blossoms as a spring dream when you rebuild the snow
A meeting between my winters
Hiding in the memory of light like an eternal volcano
Its eruptions do not exhaust me
And my expectations do not burn in it
You stand in the middle of the distance between me and my dreams
Your steps accelerate between you and my meeting
And the sound of my hesitant steps travels with me far

I see that last scene in your eyes
When the farthest points of the universe meet
I touch you as a shadow on the borders of my fear
The pains of your departure plant the blades of poison in my pulse
My map gets lost in your night
The flame of my fireplace goes out
And on the shrine of the dream I engrave the letters of my opening
Praying a prayer calling on me
To return from dispersion until the beginning of formation
Blowing a new soul into my own soul
Rather, you scream, “Be, so that I may be”
But you do not know that the crack is climbing my soul
A crack that is still growing
Its branches are still intertwined like grains of dust of separation
---sleep---ing in the embrace of tears
Weaving soft clay with which a path, a horizon,´-or-even a wall of mirage is formed
On which the branches of a small dream rest

It is difficult for you to stay
And with the tenderness of the longing, your hands reach out
Approaching
Fixing the position of the shroud that slip off me in the moment of meeting
What a meeting!!

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