I’ve searched the world without finding
land more barren,
love more pure,
or rage more fierce than yours.
I came back to you, oh desert,
sea-spray on my face;
in my mind, a mirage of tears,
a shadow moving in the sea before dawn
and a golden flash of braided hair.
On my lips, two lines of poetry
a song without echo.
I came back to you, disenchanted.
I’ve found there’s
no trust between human beings.
I came back to you deprived;
the world’s like a rib cage
without a heart.
Love is a word
devoid of love.
I came back to you defeated;
I’ve been fighting life’s battles
with a sword forged from feeling.
I came back to you .. and laid my anchor
on the sand.
As I washed my face with dew
it seemed you were calling me.
Then you whispered:
‘Have you come back to me, my child?’
Yes .. mother .. I came back to you.
A child, forever grieving,
flew to God’s countries;
unable to find his nest,
he came back to search for his life in you.
I came back to you, oh desert.
I’ve thrown away my quiver and ceased wandering,
I dally in your night-web
breathing on the soft winds of the Najd
the fragrance of Araar.
In you I live for poetry and moons.
Renard Moreau Presents On Bloglovin’
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