Poems

Flying Seeds

The ancient woman who lived through all seasons circles the earth, picking up green camomile
Every flower in (abundance/bloom?) is a star,
And (abundance) is a sky until it arrives behind the house its flowers ... as a surprise at its good luck/fortune and adorns/puts a mark on the future.
In the sun, a (tattoo...mark?) shines beneath the sweat (?), a star shines living in golden earring and camomile dries up.
And the hand that loves the wool of the field and embroidered the wedding clothes, the (bent) hand that has written on it half of Allah's divine names,* collects the dry/driest? flowers.
But the future, arriving/when it arrived the following season to avenge the traitor/slanderer
The woman was buried with her ancestors.
As if by surprise, as if by magic, as if by a miracle,
The camomile flowers still grow behind the house every season
Many seeds have flown
(But) those seeds remained.