With less silence

With a little sun. With much night.
With your most open heart. With more of your perfume.
With your most splendid presence. With much oblivion.
With purer air. With one glass more.
With less silence. With a sky more serene.
With a star. With two. With a heart more merciful.

I can forget
I am Hassan
whose steps love has wasted.

And am
the boy
whose love life has wasted

And am
the one who knew the way to the heart
of women only to bid them farewell,
who settled on the mountain of love only to
leave it; who conquered cities only to abandon them.

With a little
earth
I can weave a grave in the void
a grave for my shadow, a grave for the air
a grave for my night, a grave for the sky

and a tower for my soul-mate.

And I
can anchor there
where joy dwells; I will anchor for a little while
at the voice of Leila, the silence of Leila,
and the grief of Leila. I will anchor
for a little while so that my heart become
my own guide.

And because
I am averse to loss of all kinds
with little love
with much love
I can head far into
the void’s hell. I can
recall the grief of my infancy. I can
emerge out of death’s tunnel
to
      the nursery
                              of joy.

WITH LESS SILENCE