Ghazal of the Terrible Presence
I would have the water reft from its bed,
I would have the wind bereft of its dell,
The eyes of the night cleft down from its brow
And my heart bereft of the golden flower;
The huge leaves hear what the oxen say
And the earthworm die of overshade ;
The teeth that hang in the skullmouth glint
And a gush of yellow flood out the silk.
I can see the wounded night in its duel
Writhing against the impending noon.
I resist a green sunset of venomed skies
And the ruined arch of suffering time.
But don't shine your immaculate nude at me
Like a black cactus opening out in the reeds.
Leave me with my dark planets, let me ache
But don't you dare teach me the cool of your waist!
Translated by A.Z. Foreman
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