He Is The Man That

He Is The Man That long poem

Uploaded by FETHI SASSI

Who said that dawn doesn’t know him?
Yes … Who has said that?
He is secreting night
when the sunset flows to poem end ;
the flute, which surrendered stealthily to the day song,
it runs away from the maze saliva,
and realized itself the strain of spectrum.
When he got purified from the spray of the distance …
Because when he begins to please the sea ;
and whenever he listens to the braids of argument,
He does not rush to call out …..
Then he releases the letters of destiny,
obsessed with the idea of the moon.
He was like that ……
So he was seducing waves somewhere ;
he walks with bare lips, deceiving a star in the astonishment of stones,
which are heaped on the threshold of legends …..
He has no face if the star rigs the moon braids,
stealthily; he dips his face in the top of the poem,
the biography of exile was his heartbreak,
and the wind was the questions’ desire.
And in a pen’s jar, he forgot that he is encrusted
with fire and wound colors.
Like a god surviving death sometimes,
and then leaves smiling at the havoc …

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