Exceptional Love for an Exceptional Woman
The most tormenting aspect of my love for you is…
That I cannot love you more.
What troubles me most among my five senses is…
That they remain just five, nothing more.
An exceptional woman like you
Deserves exceptional feelings,
Extraordinary longings,
And tears that are truly unique.
You require a fourth dimension…
With its own teachings, rituals, paradise, and torment.
For a woman as remarkable as you,
There should be books written solely for you,
A sorrow that belongs exclusively to you,
A death that is yours alone,
And a time filled with millions of rooms,
Where you dwell in solitude.
Yet, alas,
I cannot shape moments
Into rings to adorn your fingers.
For the year is bound by its months,
Months are governed by their weeks,
Weeks are dictated by their days,
And my days are ruled by the rhythm of night and day…
In your violet eyes…
Love Without Boundaries
Oh, my lady:
You were the most significant woman in my history
Before this year departed.
You are now… the most crucial woman
With the birth of this new year.
You are a woman I cannot measure in hours or days.
You are a woman…
Crafted from the fruits of poetry,
And made of dreams spun from gold.
You are a woman… who inhabited my body
Long before the dawn of time.
Oh, my lady:
You, woven from cotton and cloud,
Rain made of rubies,
Rivers flowing with Nehband,
Marble forests unfolding…
You swim like fish in the waters of my heart,
And dwell in my eyes like a flock of doves.
Nothing will change in my affection,
In my feelings,
In my heart, in my faith…
For I shall remain steadfast in my belief.
Oh, my lady:
Do not be concerned about the passage of time or the names of years.
For you will always be a woman… in every moment.
I will love you…
When we enter the twenty-first century,
When we embrace the twenty-fifth century,
When the twenty-ninth century dawns,
And I will love you…
When the seas run dry,
And the forests burn…
The Most Intense Love I’ve Experienced
The world scolds me if I dare love you,
As if I am the architect of love itself,
As if I have painted love upon the roses’ cheeks.
As if I alone taught the birds
To soar in the sky,
And sowed it in the golden wheat fields,
As if I were the one
Who hung it like a beautiful moon in the heavens.
The world blames me if I
Speak the name of my beloved or mention them,
As if I embody love
And all its kin…
Different from all I have ever known,
Unique from everything I have read,
Or heard…
If only I had known
This was a form of addiction, I wouldn’t have succumbed.
If I had foreseen that this
Was a door buffeted by winds, I wouldn’t have opened it.
If I had known that this
Was a matchstick, I would never have ignited it.
This passion… the most intense love I’ve ever known.
How I wish I had sent it away the moment it approached
With open arms…
And how I wish I had killed it
Before it could take my breath away.
Five Texts on Love
Your love…
A time caught between peace and war,
Worse than a battle of nerves.
Your love… a magical hallway
With millions of doors.
As soon as I open one door…
Another closes…
From my lips pours nectar,
If I dare to flirt with you one day, my lady,
It may cost me my life…
Your love poses a thousand questions
For which poetry offers no answers.
A Small Love Letter
My beloved, there is so much
That I want to share with you.
Where should I begin, oh dear one?
Everything about you… is royalty.
You, who weave my words
Into silken cocoons.
These are songs, and this is a
Little book that binds us together.
Tomorrow… when its pages are turned,
And a lamp longs for its light,
And the bed sings its serenade,
Those letters will blush with yearning,
And pauses will be on the verge of flight.
So do not say: “Oh, this boy…”
Tell of the bends and the brook,
Of the almonds and tulips, for I,
Shall walk this world with you.
And whatever is said, no star will shine
Without echoing my essence.
Tomorrow… people will see me in your verses,
With a mouthful of wine and a few short lines.
Let others gossip… for you will never be
More than great in the light of my immense love.
What would the earth be if we were not,
If your eyes didn’t exist… what would it be?
Love Below Zero
I love you… I adored you even in fragments,
Scattered and dispersed…
Even evaporated, even as I reached for the cosmos,
Committed to verses,
I love you… once, I loved you deeply,
But your eyes no longer bring any new words.
I love you… if only I could step into the violet time,
But springtime is far away…
If only I could enter the world of poetry,
But the season of madness has long faded.
Yet your eyes contain no new words for me.
I love you… oh, if only I could step into the violet time,
But springtime is distant…
And if I could enter the realm of poetry,
But the season of insanity ended ages ago.
Read Me
Read me… whenever you search the desert for a drop of water,
Read me… whenever they close the doors of hope on lovers.
I do not write the sorrow of a single woman;
I am inscribing the history of women…
In love, there is no final love.
In the beginning, there was the ocean, and the land was an exception.
Initially, there was the breast, and the slope was an exception.
You were first… then came the women.
Every woman I love… is the first woman…
In love, there is no ultimate love.
Diaries of a Defeated Man
It has never been true
That I have loved this deeply…
It has never happened… never happened that I
Traveled with a woman
To the lands of longing…
And struck the shores of her breasts,
Like a thunderous storm, or a lightning flash.
For in the past, I never truly adored…
Rather, I played the part of a lover.
It has never occurred, my lady,
That a woman’s love brought me to the brink.
Never did I know one
Who defeated me, taking my weapons,
Vanquished me… within my own realm,
Stripped away my masks.
It has never happened, my lady,
That I tasted fire, or endured the burn.
Rest assured, my lady,
Thousands will love you…
And you will receive letters of longing.
But you will never find another man
To love you with this kind of sincerity.
You will never find another…
In the West…
Nor in the East.