Loneliness is a garden: Selected Poems of Adonis (Part 1)
Loneliness is a garden,
but there is only one tree in it.
Every moment,
Ashes proves that it is the palace of the future.
Night embraces sorrow,
and unties its braids.
Close the door,
not to confine joy,
but to liberate sorrow.
He immersed himself in the ocean of forgetfulness,
but reached the other shore of memory.
He said: The moon is a lake, and his love is a boat.
But Anlu expressed doubts.
It was his joy,
whose strings were custom-made for his sorrow.
Days,
are letters written by time to people,
but the words are not lost.
Time is the wind,
blowing from the direction of death.
If the day could speak,
it would preach the gospel of the night.
Inserted into the braid of sorrow,
The hand of night is gentle.
Winter is loneliness,
summer is parting,
spring is the bridge between the two,
only autumn penetrates everything season.
There is no sleep during the day,
except in the arms of night.
The past is a lake,
There is only one swimmer in it: memory.
Light only works when awake,
Darkness only works during sleep.
Night’s dreams,
are the threads with which we weave the clothes of the day.
If the sky could cry,
as the dark clouds say,
then the wind is the history of tears.
Music came,
from the trees where the wind played.
Rain is the wind's stick,
The wind is the rain's swing.
The wind teaches silence;
Although it never stops speaking.
Smoke is a crop,
only the sickle of wind
can harvest it.
Today, I feel sad for the sick wind,
The oleander did not dance.
Loneliness is a garden,
but there is only one tree in it....
I have a good impression of narcissus,
but my love belongs to another kind of flower,
I can’t name it.
Thirsty,
but only water that I can’t get,
to quench my thirst.
After the peak is the downhill? I don't believe it:
High places always lead people to higher places.
Everything you say to yourself,
you will say to others,
even if you don’t mean to.
It is said that imitation is easy,
Oh, that I could imitate the sea!
Sometimes,
the sun cannot illuminate you,
a candle can.
May my ability to have wishes be greater than my ability to fulfill them.
The lonely man: one wing;
The lonely woman: the broken wing
The Sad Forest: Selected Poems of Adonis (Part 2)< /p>
All the words I know,
have become forests of sorrow.
Okay, I'll get out of my loneliness,
But where to?
I stand in front of the mirror,
not to look at myself,
but to confirm:
What I see is really me ?
I say the sun is another shadow,
but I have no proof;
I say the moon is another flame,
I have lots of evidence.
My past is a tomb,
but there are no bodies in it.
My memory is really strange:
A garden full of all kinds of plants and trees,
but no fruits.
That night, why did I feel:
The sky is the harp of the night,
The stars are broken strings?
Is it because I sleep alone?
Now I understand:
Why those who only dream of light,
sometimes praise darkness.
Write:
This is the best way,
to read yourself and listen to the world.
Time has been lost,
You cannot be yourself, you cannot understand who you are.
Childhood is gone.
Woman:
A cloud that can shed tears.
Life is the elixir that Death takes;
So Death is immortal.
Despair has fingers,
but it can only catch
dead butterflies.
The dark clouds also have thoughts,
recorded by lightning,
conveyed by thunder.
Love is an eternity that lasts for a moment.
Hate is a moment that seems to last forever.
Rules,
are often repeated exceptions.
No matter where we are, there is soil accompanying us.
That is an eternal meeting;
No matter where we are, there is time. Accompanying,
That is an eternal parting.
The sea has no time
to talk to the sand,
it is always busy composing waves.
If the sea is a forest,
then words are birds.
Everything will die,
except man,
it is death that comes to him.
Despair is a habit,
Hope is innovation.
The most distant light,
is closer to us than the nearest darkness:
Distance is often just a myth.
No, it is life that is giving the orders,
Death is just a faithful recorder.
Happiness has wings,
but it has no body;
Sadness has a body,
but it has no wings.
Water is the eternal restless one,
Stones sing in their sleep.
The shadow of the rose,
is a withered rose.
Kneel down, darkness is born;
Stand upright, light is born.
Wings Grow From Wounds: Selected Poems of Adonis (Part 3)
The world has left me covered in wounds,
But what grew out of the wounds were wings.
Writing is a house under construction but never finished,
inhabited by that wandering family: writing.
The purest words come down from the mouth of heaven,
However, they are called corrupt words.
Yes, the light will also kneel down,
That is facing another piece of light.
Birds refuse to sing,
In fields that do not know silence.
Darkness is born paralyzed,
Light walks as soon as it is born.
The moon is so ignorant, its glory is so vain:
It does not know how to talk to any star,
Does not know a word;
The so-called moonlight,
is just a borrowed coat.
Even when the sun is sad,
it must be dressed in bright clothes.
Darkness is the tyrant that surrounds us,
Light is the knight who comes to rescue us.
Death comes from behind,
Even if it seems to come from the front:
The front belongs only to life.
Groups write history,
Individuals read history.
The tongue is rusty from talking too much,
The eyes are rusty from dreaming too little.
Sometimes, the most wonderful lamp is not for seeing the light clearly,
but for seeing the shadow clearly.
Lighted lamp.
Crazy is a child,
in the garden of reason,
playing the most beautiful games.
Fantasy is a ceremony,
we cannot hold it,
except in the hall of reality.
The life of a stone will not end,
because it is alive as death.
Even the wind,
also wants to turn into a chariot drawn by
butterflies.
I have been injured since I was a child.
I have understood since I was a child:
It is the wound that created me.
Time:
floating in joy,
settling in sorrow.
The sun does not say "yes",
nor does it say "no",
it speaks of itself.
Your arrival,
is often the beginning of your real journey.
The brightest lightning,
comes from the heart;
also comes from the heart,
and the darkest clouds.
Fight with the grass,
but surrender to the thorns--
This is the most fashionable hero.
Poet, your motherland,
is the place where you must be expelled and leave.
No matter how crazy you are,
your madness is not enough
to change the world.
Love is the footsteps of our past,
The past is the dust of our future.
Poetry is paradise,
but it will always wander in the territory of
language.
He committed suicide by jumping,
From a high window:
Is this falling,
or flying?
Forgetting has a harp,
memory plays it
Silent sadness.
Your childhood was a small village,
but,
you can’t get out of its borders,
no matter how far you travel Where.
The most cruel and painful cell is one without four walls.
What is the afterlife?
A house that we love to see,
but hate to live in.
What is the secret?
A door that shatters when you open it.
What is a dream?
A hungry man who keeps knocking on the door of reality.
Is it possible that the head of justice can only be held high if the neck is cut off?
Don't ask the wind for help,
this may make the dust jealous.
"I want to be an old man."
This is what the new moon has been repeating to the stars since its birth
.
I write,
not to reveal the truth,
but to learn how to seek the truth.
Out of what wisdom, or for what wisdom,
only the devil is given
the right to argue with God?
It’s strange that the crocodile--
is ferocious,
but when it attacks its prey,
it has to arm itself with tears.
The world has left me covered with wounds,
but what grew out of the wounds were wings.
The sky wants me to learn the etiquette of clouds,
But yesterday I saw:
The dusk clouds covered the sky,
But he didn't apologize to it.
The wheat ears bend towards the wind,
not to pay tribute,
but to point the way to parting to the wind.
The gravels on the coast have such profound wisdom:
With eternal silence, listen to the waves that always chatter
.
Sleeping on my pillow at night,
But I am sleepless alone.