Monday, July 08, 2013

Her Black Hair

I, and, my black hair
Gypsy-like and frizzy
Miss your fingers and comb,
Traveling through its locks,
As clouds travel
From country to country.
It’s still long, Mother
The angels braid it
Before each time we meet.
They know that you
Adore my hair.
All those in graves
Know that my Mother
Is my only Love.
Do come today and comb
My black hair.

Loay Hussein Taha
Translated from Arabic by Lina R. Hamadeh

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