I loved the
sun because it reminds me of your warm soul. And I loved the evening because it
reminds me of your wet whispers. I love the brown color, because it reminds me
of your immortal hands. And
subconsciously I feel proud, when I see swarms of arrivals at your door asking
for some nectar, and you are the owner of the great secret.
It is amazing how much we have talked about
the fading of time and space, and here you are kneading them with your fingers,
so your board is infinity. You look down on us - O Babylonian - from the
balconies of your walls that shine with copper, and in your hands a cup of
Iraqi honey tea is like the eyes of an angel frolicking in the wilderness with
the antelopes of Enkidu. Yes, I know.
You want something wonderful, because you are the wise one who knows things and
knows the secrets. Your hands have conquered old age and death. Yeah, I know,
you look at us and smile, you (He who saw).
