We Travel Like All People

'We Travel Like All People
We travel like everyone else, but we return to nothing.

As if travel were
a path of clouds. We buried our loved ones in the shade
of clouds and between roots of trees.
We said to our wives: Give birth for hundreds of years,
so that we may end this journey
within an hour of a country, within a meter of the
impossible!
We travel in the chariots of the Psalms, sleep in the
tents of the prophets, and are born again in the
language of Gypsies.
We measure space with a hoopoe’s beak, and sing so
that distance may forget us.
We cleanse the moonlight. Your road is long, so dream
of seven women to bear
this long journey on your shoulders. Shake the trunks
of palm trees for them.
You know the names, and which one will give birth to
the Son of Galilee.
Ours is a country of words: Talk. Talk. Let me rest my
road against a stone.
Ours is a country of words: Talk. Talk. Let me see an
end to this journey. '
'An eagle settles on our bodies, and we chase after

dreams. May we find them.
They soar behind us to find us here. There is no escape!
We live our death. This half-death is our triumph. '
'In this hymn we lay a dream, we raise a victory sign,
we hold a key to the last door,
to lock ourselves in a dream. But we will survive
because life is life. '
'We are captives of what we love, what we desire, and

what we are. '
'Let us be kindhearted! Take me to the sea at dusk.

Let me hear what the sea tells you when it returns to
itself in peace.
I won’t change. I will embrace a wave and say:
Take me to the sea again.
This is what the fearful do:
when a burning star torments them, they go to the
sea.'
'Death, O my shadow who leads me, O my third

person,
emerald and olivine’s irresolute color,
blood of a peacock, sniper of the wolf’s heart,
sickness of imagination, have a seat.
Leave your hunting gear at the window and hang
your heavy key chain on the door.
Mighty one, don’t gaze into my veins looking for some
fatal flaw.
You are stronger than my breathing, stronger than
medicine, and the strong honey of bodily love.
You don’t need some sickness in order to kill me.
So be nobler than the insects.
Be yourself—transparent, a clear message from the
Unseen.
And like love, be a raging storm among trees.
Do not sit in the doorways like a beggar or a tax
collector.
Do not become a traffic cop in the streets.
Be powerful, of well-tempered steel, and take off that
fox mask.
Be gallant and knightly, and launch your mortal
assaults.
Say whatever you wish to say:
I emerge from meaning to meaning.
Life is fluid, I distill it.
I introduce it to my domination and my measure.'
'I have work to do for the afterlife, as if tomorrow I

will not be alive.
I have work to do for the eternal presence of today.
Hence I listen, little by little, to the ants in my heart:
Help me bear the brunt of my endurance.
I even listen to the gasping scream of the stone: Free
my body.
In the violin, I see longing migrate from an earthly
country to a heavenly one.
I hold my dear one, eternity, in the palm of a woman’s
hand.
First, I was created. After a while, I fell in love.
Then I got bored to death.
Later on, in my grave, I opened my eyes
and saw the grasses mirroring me from time to time.
What use is Spring, then, if it does not bring joy to the
dead,
and if it does not restore life and the bloom of oblivion
after life?
That is one way to solve the riddle of poetry, the riddle
of my tender poetry at least.
Dreams are our sole utterance.'
'As if I am. As if I am not.

Every time I listen to the heart the words of the Unseen
flood me, and trees grow tall in me.
I fly from dream to dream but I am without end.
A few thousand poetic years ago, I was born in a
darkness of white linen,
but I could not distinguish between the dream of
myself and my self.'
'In order to fight the beast in you, I asked a woman to

give you milk.
I was unjust. But you were given pleasure, and you
gave in.
Be kind to me, Enkidu. Go back to the dead.
It’s possible we might find an answer
to the question of who we are when we are alone.
The life of a single man is not complete,
and I am in dire need of an answer to this question.
Whom can I ask about crossing this river?
So rise and lift me up, O brother in salt!
When you sleep, do you know you are sleeping?
Rise up! Enough.
Move before the wise men, like foxes, surround me.
All is vanity. Your life is a treasure, so live it, richly.
It’s a single moment, promising its own sap—the
distilled blood of the prairie.
Live your waking, not your dream: Everything dies.
Live your life in a beloved woman.
Life is your body, not some illusion.
Wait for a child to carry in your soul.
For us, procreation is immortality.
And all is vanity and mortal, or mortal and vanity.
'What was mine: my yesterday.

What will be mine: the distant tomorrow,
and the return of the wandering soul as if nothing had
happened.'
'I don’t dream of anything now.

I desire only to desire.
I dream only of desiring harmony.

We Travel Like All People

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'We Travel Like All People

We travel like everyone else, but we return to nothing.

'An eagle settles on our bodies, and we chase after

'We are captives of what we love, what we desire, and

'Let us be kindhearted! Take me to the sea at dusk.

'Death, O my shadow who leads me, O my third

'I have work to do for the afterlife, as if tomorrow I

'As if I am. As if I am not.

'In order to fight the beast in you, I asked a woman to

'What was mine: my yesterday.

'I don’t dream of anything now.

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