And I was a dancer
The world was mine and the striking maestro
A benevolent tyrant lashed out at random
With a reckoning arms and a besieging look
The ensemble tended with utmost reverence
To the maximum queen,
The diva in silk
And the slaughtered smile on the quivering lips
The violin moaned with inexorable sadness
And the cello echoed the renderings with intent
My body moved in a chaotic maize
Yet harmoniously
With the cowardly lights, occasional applauding and rhythmic sighs
The treasured dream is no longer guarded
It washed off an island shaped as a horn
With nameless fruits and sandless shores
The guard is no more for the tenor is on
Cursing and burning the crescendos in all
As the soprano did the vibratos
And I, molded in one,
As the lyrics and Maria,
The molten trumpet and the ravaged drum
Noble we were and the novel odds
Maria was mine and the sumptuous hips
Tyranny was my way and, once , I was a dancer.
Azzam Elayan
1990s
No comments:
Post a Comment