11 November 2007

A Two-Colored Brocade

Sometimes I burn like a
candle from expectation;
sometimes I weep like a
spring cloud.
You see the candle's
radiance and are happy,
but you don't see the fire
at its head.

It's one of the things which you wouldn't notice normally, something which you live with day by day, but you just sort of ignore its being there. Just like the air, so evident yet so transparent. You wouldn't see it unless it's coloured or pressurized. When you leave the library and walking down the hill towards the parking lot at around 2245 with 18 books in your arms and less than 2 months till the deadline you feel what you've always known, that you are by yourself.


Schuma said...

Title and poem taken from the book by Annemarie Schimmel (1992).

Ri said...

keep on going little man...

Schuma said...

I don't think I understand a word of your comment, isn't it supposed to be in one of my travel posts?

paco said...

no sé muy bien lo que dice esta canción, tambien arabe, como tu poema, pero la musica siempre acompaña en el camino y las palabras no son lo mas importante. Ademas la página web donde la encontré creo que te gustara también. !!Que la disfrutes!!http://www.webislam.com/?ida=213