Night

Night
Circles the sky With strings of fear.
Strangers for the corners of time,
Passers-by for the angles of wind.
I pour my silence Into a dark bottle
And drink the ancient sadness
From the ancient cellar.
Oh, how can we bring down
The towers of dignity
And kill the seasons of waiting,
Throw away the furniture of reality?
All days are Introductions to the empty volumes
On the shelves of horizon,
Topic sentencesTo the absence!
Ghias Aljundi, Oxford, 27-2-05