Classic Poem

Tell this poem
that delights never end
they stand between our joy and morning office hours
between reality and mystery.
Tell this poem
to continue its manifestations, its dialogues, its presences
to learn the delights
the family knows:
the son speaking boldly, " Take me to my grandfather's house. "
the daughter laughing at false pretexts.
In the morning family demands
are accompanied by chiding
At noon the family
is afraid of pretended anger, of gloom.
Evening, all is forgotten,
these are the waters that take hold of your time
the sweet fatigue,
and that's a wise wife you have.

Why does this poem announce its mutiny sometimes,
and elude you,
why does it do what your beloved sometimes does,
and suddenly attack?
Ah, you wanton poem!
What do your tired green orchards
have to do with us?
Your raw face came to me when I was a little boy,
accompanied me in youth
and claimed me in manhood
You belong to a family from the land of the jinn
from the celebration of roses
the angels of my inspiration do not fight
a family of your stock
they've surrendered to the fire of your fragrance
and on the pages of expectation laid down the arms
I had intended to fight you with
Fear has its own climate,
just like courage.
I fear you when you are near,
and when you are far,
in the roses, and in the sand.
This is what gave your empty spaces their greater distance,
awakened a mare in its sands
where between the echo of its hoofsteps
and your enchanting expanse
the dilemma lies.

In your golden gardens
we planted flowers once
why did those flowers
which accompanied us to you
block our way?
Did our gardens block your way?
We told you: enter in peace ... and we said
enter by force
our gates are flung open for the fires,
for love and water.
You were never anything but the desired, frolicking elf,
the docile one
An unexplainable drive
pushes us toward your land
where your obtrusive conquests reach
and is caught in the net of your mirrors
Now my body celebrates your joy
is crowded with your delights
made whole by your glow
crowned by your glow
You are an onerous tempter
and I'm a man who never tires of the chase
I burst a queenly language
in the rose of death
and erect for it a kingdom.