Am I your utterance or silence, or what the wind carries toward you
from the dust of other trees?
If only you’d offer me your hands
if only the horizon, awake all through your sleepless vision,
would tell me what happened in the forest of my days, the winds of memory …
At the heights of the palms my memory grew—
I didn’t know that a lover’s body is drawn with a swallow’s beak
I didn’t know that only madness knows how to love.
For whom is the star letting loose her hair?
— Adonis, from “The Child Running Inside Memory,” Adonis: Selected Poems. Trans. Khaled Mattawa. (Yale University Press; First Edition edition, October 19, 2010)a