A Lot of Pictures



    Adeeb Kamal Ad-Deen







    My letter friend,

    We took together,

    A lot of souvenir pictures

    Near the bridge,

    Near the door of the school,

    Near the train station

    Whose train goes down to hell.

    And at the table of the dot,

    Her glass filled with yearning,

    We took the naked pictures that have nothing

    But pain,

    The naked pictures that have nothing

    But the cries of the night,

    The naked pictures that have nothing

    But God's shirt.

    We took the colored pictures

    With the color of the sunset at sea

    Or the color of the tropical rain

    Or with the clouds of the faraway winter

    Or with the women's shades

    Or with the sunlight

    When the sun undressed along the great ocean.

    You called these pictures-

    And you are right- poems.

    You were delighted with them

    Because you invented them

    And you were the outside and the inside of them.

    Whereas I will die without writing my poem

    In which I say the naked truth without pictures

    Without pictures of any kind.



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