A bird Reads

In the transition of the seasons
when the gallant wind blows
a bird sits and reads
the whole torah
a bird sits and reads
all the prophet's words
a bird sits and reads
the chronicles of the world
a bird sits and reads
and praises the creator of the world
and people pass and watch
and say hey beautiful bird
beautiful bird who reads
their whole hearts.

UPON HEARING THAT MAHMOUD DARWISH WAS ILL

and I hear that you are in a hospital near Paris
and I hear that you are very ill
and I feel my hair chilling
and I say no I cant write a poem about Darwish
he is my enemy
but I know He is not my enemy
I am just afraid of what the others will say
It's one thing to say that
Darwish is the best Israeli poet
just to see their half smiles
saying that I am crazy
and another to write about you
and I have loved you poems
you, like me,
an exiled in the world
when the world is all exile
when the words are all aliens
and I loved when you said in an interview
that
had you known your poems would be translated
to so many European languages
you would have written them differently
with less symbolism an clearer
I loved you when you said that a poet has to
write his poems clear
I loved when you wrote about El Andalus
and making love in the afternoon.
May god be with you, Mahmoud,
my friend not my enemy
my fighter with words
stronger than weapons
may Allah be your healer
may you live many years to come
and may you rest when the time has come
in the gardens of eden.