Ibn Arabi
Reality
They placed the palaquins
on the
finest workhorse camel mares,
and
within their embroidered canopies
full
moons and marbled statuettes.
They promised my heart
they'd return
but what are the promises of a soft girl
but illusions.
They
beckoned goodbye,
fingertips
dyed with henna,
set
tears scattering
and
stoked the fire.
They turned
back toward Yemen,
seeking Khawarnaq
then
Sadir,
Damn
it! I called
as they
left.
They
answered:
If you
want to cry damn it,
Why settle for
a single, lonely damn?
Damn it, damn it,
Damn it
all over!
Easy
now,
dove of
the thorn berry thicket,
her
leaving
has
sharpened your cry.
Your coo, dove,
stirs the lover
and inflames
the
already burning,
Melts
the heart,
compounds
our longing
and our
sigh
Death hovers
over a dove that coos.
We beg of him
a stay.
Maybe
a breath
from the
East wind
from
Hajir
will
bring us clouds of rain.
You who pasture the stars
be my drinking companion!
and you, awake-all-night lightning watcher,
my night
friend!
And
you who'd rather
sleep
the night away
before
you die
you live
entombed
If you'd only loved
a bravesouled beauty
you'd have found in her what you desired
and been
satisfied.
You'd
be sharing with the belles
intimate
drink,
speaking
secrets to the sun, and to the moon
whispering
nothing