Words

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؛

He lets me listen, when he moves me,

Words are not like other words

He takes me, from under my arms

He plants me, in a distant cloud

And the black rain in my eyes

Falls in torrents, torrents

He carries me with him, he carries me

To an evening of perfumed balconies

And I am like a child in his hands

Like a feather carried by the wind

He carries for me seven moons in his hands

and a bundle of songs

He gives me sun, he gives me summer

and flocks of swallows

He tells me that I am his treasure

And that I am equal to thousands of stars

And that I am treasure, and that I am

more beautiful than he has seen of paintings

؛

Copyright:
 Nizar Qabbani

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