To describe the almond blossom,
no encyclopedia of flowers will help me,
nor the dictionary …
the words will take me to the traps of rhetoric
and rhetoric injures the meaning
and praises its wound,
as a male dictates to a female her feelings
so, how does almond blossom
radiates in my language, and I am the echo?
It is as lucent as a water laugh grew
on the branches from the shy dew…
It is as light as a white musical sentence…
It is as weak as a twinkling thought
passes by our fingers
and we write it in vain
It is as thick as a verse of poetry
that can not be written
to describe the almond blossom,
I need visits to the subconscious to guide me
to the names of emotion hanging on the walls.
What’s its name?
What is the name of this thing
in the poeticalness of nothingness?
I need to break through gravity and speech,
so I can feel the lightness of words when
they become a whispering vision,
so I can articulate them
and they can make a glazing white out of me
No home, nor exile are the words,
but fondness of white in describing the almond blossom
No snow, nor cotton
then what is it that rises above the colors and words
Had an author succeeded in writing a section
for describing the almond blossom,
the fog would have receded from the hills,
and the whole nation would have said:
This is it
This is our national anthem!
