تابع سيرك — Mustafa Maaroufi

Here you are, walking now.

Your road steals your steps from you.

Your steps fear the bends.

You walk to the right.

You find nothing but stale air

and frogs

croaking since the time of the Flood,

still swimming in ancient pools.

Then you walk to the left.

You find nothing but love of power,

or the wound of a blunted self,

while principle, behind the glass of the self,

has become an orphan on the margins.

You find nothing but skulls

sold at public auction

to the scorching heat of exile

and the cold of the prison cell.

There you see clouds

،

that have cleared to reveal a false sun.

Keep walking.

Do not fear a muddy road.

Do not fear the wasteland and the pains of the desert.

If you do not stop,

.

a spring of water will call you to it,

and the spreading shade will sit between its hands.