The torn flag

Long live the general
Down with the general

The voices
were the same voices that were of old

Distributing their pain of longing
On reed grown in the wind

These loud voices
Are they her voices?

Long live the general
Down with the general

Is this the female inhabiting the holy lands
The owner of the old territory
And the guardian of jars full of names?
And the flag tattooed with the surprised blood
Is it her flag?

Blood is the only wanderer in the whole land
From desert to desert
And from the desert to the firmaments of  Arabic

Long live the general
Down with the general

The wandering blood
Is the same blood left on the padlocks
Since very long
And on the keys
Hanging
In the void

And the door
Which is heavy
Like a corpse

Long live the general
Down with the general

Let the birds lay their eggs
In the mouth of the cannon

THE TORN FLAG