Hanane Aad

1965 / Beirut

Purple Compassion

My eyes a den of amazement,
my smile the sceptre of hone
I myself a violin suspended
between the quivering soul
and the pulse of strings.

Raise me upon your palms
with all the force of a last wager.
Paint childhood's fertile pastures
with your purple tenderness.
Fill the moment's pitchers
with eternally flowing wine.

Give my lips a mythical cut,
invent for my face
a horizon white as virtue.
Carry me in your breast
like a delicious secret,
and take refuge in its shadow
whenever you lack tenderness.
Let me vanish and hide
between your bones,
like Spring ascending your veins.
Take me each dawn
to your serenity.
Savour the rain of my memory,
let its warmth bestow comfort
on the cold soul.
Bear me to the summit of your hopes,
use the rays of my eyelids
to conquer the emperors of severity,
with the clearness of my heart
purge this universe lacerated by mist,

Wait for me there,
in the evenings of other times,
where new lives are bejewelled,
wait for me there,
on the edge of the absolute,
hold me there in my entirety,
sing and dance with me,
celebrating an encounter,
encompassed by the eternal,
by the union of freedom and certainty.

Translated by Hanane Aad
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