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My Prophecy
Why the soul sets out to heaven
Soaring, hovering over the sea
With anxious and mad wing
And swooping down on the wave
Like a hungry eagle swooping down on its prey,
I don't know...!
Why I long for heaven
For sun and the sea,
Yearning to unfold the unseen,
To break the idol of unknown,
I don't know...!
I hear the screaming of my awful fate.
All that is seen is deception embracing deception,
Illusion climbing illusion.
Close the window of dreams
And listen to the voice of your fears!
They have no shelter but your worn spirit.
Eternity is an oriental and fabled tale
With its threads woven skillfully by a prophet
Adventurer,
Rebel,
Dreamer,
Lover,
Poet.
The passion of Christ is a human and noble dream,
A tendency towards salvation,
The prophecy of Muhammad...
A war against inequity,
The preaching of Buddha...
Jewels for the soul,
And the teaching of Lao Tzu...
A search of the unknown,
So, why prophecy becomes disbelief
And writing poetry a sin,
I don't know...!
So burn ye the images of evil,
Light up the candles
And sing the songs of love and freedom,
The chant of heaven on earth...!
For lo! Love is a tree in autumn,
Naked,
Standing all alone,
Mournful,
Weeping,
Awaiting the sun and rain.
Poetry is a revolution against despair,
Wine for the knights,
Fruit for the rebels,
Bread for the poor…
That is why
When I write a poem,
I tremble
And thousands of butterflies fly from my worn spirit
Copyright © Munir Mezyed
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