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Metaphysics of pink sand
Whenever I say "I got a" window
off and another light !
(is it the soft beam of lightning which couples the night in the shadow
or is it the rose in the desolation of the Sahara
which is guided by the flint of kings?) ...
Every time I say "I came", a window ensuring full light,
off, and no bats do not institute the night, with wings of velvet.
"Can I come?"
- Who?! .. No one lives this house!
- And the voice ... ?!
- No voice ... it is time that we as a shadow crosses ...
and even me ... I'm not there ... to listen.
she will come at night so that is not yet come?
am withdrawing from the dream sleep.
My heaven is a stone that built the ink of night
Is she black night or milk in my palm?
Is it Wed drunk water or shade of a white wing feathers?
I who live in my fingers,
every night I say "night lights in the starlight extinguished.
Every night I go down to your night without getting cross.
Every night I burn in the wall, your shadow, that I forget.
your night Nothing in my hand, but one mistake I called (the) death
and a shadow fell asleep in my fingers.
With the fingers of the palm, the Sahara welcomes us.
Whether we enter it!
Any shade is blind.
Any branch is a source of water.
We see things that bleed in their names:
neither knows she is the rose pink
neither the sun's wrong on the dunes
knows he is the sun nor the
Sahara where we are guided, not by blind
knows he's Sahara
neither you, Crossing my roads,
know you're you.
This love is a fifth season between two autumns
nor I, with you, know I'm me.
It - The night? It
: - Children's day.
It - Ebony? It
: - Pin grape.
It - Dawn? It
: - Shadow and Ash.
It - The Island? It
: - Think of a sea of water drunk.
It - The sea then? It
: - The "r" is wrong water that flows like this ... like that.
It - The "m"? It
: - Sometimes seashell Sometimes hatched
Stone closed.
It - The "e"? It
: - Night Sea folding his night.
It - The letter? It
: - Shadow or his bow echo.
It - The name? It
: - Think of a letter.
It - The picture? It
: - Think of a name.
It - The Sahara? It
: - Water.
It - Who bathes? It
: - My thirst.
It - The pink sand? It
:-You.
It - What that whispers to white ink? It
: - The silent language.
Her: - Women? It
: - Earth from beyond the night.
It - The Shadow? It
: - Ash light.
It - While still in the shadow of the angel that hangs in the night? It
: - My Song.
It - And the rainbow sky each fall asleep on the shoulder of the mosque ...
What does he think? It
: - As far as I attach the bell in his shadow of my song.
It - What do you ask Tonight? It
: - A lightning ... for me to feed the memory of the Sahara in a pink sand or a grain of sand.
It - Again? It
: - A lightning ... I see that these herbs in the white foam of the thighs.
It - Again? It
: - A lightning ... so I see a seed black salt that turns pink in the shade of the breasts and water that day in the water.
It - Death? It
: - Decorative window on a blank wall.
She: - ....... It
: - .........
I ask the pink:
- What does the death of us?
- It opens the doors to close without
and closes doors without opening them.
The pink sand is a tomb
when the Sahara was born and died.
Would it be possible therefore to deceive
water lava,
the sun that off,
wind which pulls the gold leaf?
Is it possible to inhabit the living dead night of the Rose closed?
The first thing the night lights ... it is our view
and we ensure their own shadows ...
The eyes are the last thing off the dead.
So shoot me - one by one -
all the curtains of oblivion.
Moncef Louhaibi
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read and sign (if desired) by clicking on the link to Amnesty International
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