History of Love | By Ahmed Soarkah

Issue1 | 28 تشرين2 2013

A Palm from the unseen

Two long seas and asun

I came into the door of God

A cropped year

And a desert with two halves

The surplus is flowing

The sign gets up, and the absent comes

No one with me, save trees and road

They are elongated over and above

Advanced space on the linking duration between me and the opposite crowd.

They are having children in the walls of war, in order to feel the history of love that bringsthem stars, clouds, and clear and new days.

At night, the night came, celestial book, old women, prophetic throne, and a market for selling life and spiritual devices.

There happened whatever happened

Andremained what remained

Cart of names and mothers

Journey spanning West to North

I passed through the remainder

A shadow and a road

I would say nothing to the land

I will not be travelling near the blocked names

And the leaning on minor exorcism.

The girlfriend: fire of distances and loneliness

Cart of speaking with the people

Issues of herb and hope

Initially, I did not hesitate to put pressure on a thing that starts from here

Not poised to carry several and cut days in this way

I'm standing in the middle of the earth

I pass the evening on my idea

I lead the exiles to mild coldness

Perhaps me

Or this sea does not exist

Or that year.


Eyes with this look, evenings come slowly, and night guests touch the high sand. No noise.

Death is silent, visiting the opposite dreams on children of coldness, calmness and nothingness

To East: a spirit stretched out in a long song, space, valleys, habits of the darkness and men coming from the building on a longitudinal imagination.

But, in a near place of a dying tree, is earth appeased and gives me what is sufficient to dream or contemplate the wind. It is driving mothers and fathers toward the doors and fear.

Sorry, ancient sun

Sorry, O memories

Not land for me nor the name of the place

Witch with many faculties working night and day to conjure up magic that would appease me

I love the moon, and the sky fascinates me

Thus I feel happy when I'm playing with sand in my hand like the prophets, backpackers, and poets.