VOICE FROM THE HEART

We shall write our intimate

Story on the strings of a harp

Where its sound

Shall tell the mysteries

Of our inner chambers

To the curious ears

I will clothe you

With the garment of passion

And clear your path

With living happiness

I will spread diamond grass

On your feet

Decorate your ankles

With Gold Coast rings

And light your room

With the galaxy of fire flies

On a scented lamp stand  

I will offer you

A golden chair

On a glass Earth to sit

So that it will reflects

Your unequal beauty

To the shining sun

And seduced its melting powers

The skies shall rain

Droplets of beads

To grace your rounded neck

And give you the aerial face

Of the celestial look of Earth

The melodious eagles shall

Sing your praises

On their beaks

“Oh thou daughter of honour

Who kings bow before

Thy shadow

And whose tears sink down

The Titanic and drowns

The pillars of Babylon

The queen of golden voice

Who tames the soaring

Anger of the wounded lion

On the Sahara desert

With her touch

Thou daughter of pride

Who fed on the venom

Of poisonous serpent”

Oh yes!

The craftsmen shall weave

Your image on stone tablets

Just as a painter will paint

Your beauty on his heart

The wind will fly

Your name above the

The deep clouds

For the stars to fall

From their sockets

I will wash they clothes

With the waters of dew

Gathered from the slanderous leaves

Of the withered mustard trees

I will sing you lullaby

From the mono nose

Of bamboo flute

And play you music

From the crying skin

Of an elephant

On the hollow

Oak tree before

The warrior from

The ancient palace of Timbuktu

Oh! Thou daughter

Of black mother

Together we shall tell

Our intimate stories

On the strings

Of a harp