ﻻﺋﭧ ﮨﺎﺅﺱ

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Light House

Tell me, O mois­ture lying awake in my eyes which slum­ber of which eon has sur­round­ed you! God is weep­ing rains on some land of pain; Why a tear jew­el has caught in her eye­lash­es some­where?

Tell me, O breeze of shores! in which city she looks for me the one who told me in a sod­den voy­age that love is the island and grief, the sail!

Tell me, O the sacred name of redemp­tion I’ll per­form the rit­u­als of depart­ing Amidst the long row of stony pil­lars I will meet her; and hold­ing her in my arms will com­mend all the odysseys of land to her just for a kiss!

Tell me, O the sign of light! the peak-less rocks buried under the water are these abstrac­tions of bygone cen­turies lying on the brink of eter­ni­ty, or fig­urines of image-less yelps of slaves row­ing in a para­ble?

Tell me, O the mag­i­cal bird fly­ing over the far­thest end of the time! Tell me where is she by remem­ber­ing whom the masts of the ancient voic­es are anchored in my heart! Tell me, O the earth­ly star why the voy­agers dream of you?

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Image: Enkel Dika