DEPARTURE

In this moment of departure,

point your red arrows,

disarm the lightning, and open wide

the gate to my exile.

Close the sky's open face, and ride away.

I long so deeply that the shores unfold their seas

and horses bolt!

Now I'll carry the roads and palm trees in my suitcase,

I'll lock my tears in the evening's copybooks

and seal the seasons.

Let's begin our song: here is Beirut wearing you

like her own clothes.

You must sit well on the surface of her glory

abandoning tears

In her blue froth

She contains you like eternity

like the sense of beginning that comes with certainty

-How can you be dead, yet so absolutely present ?

Let the rivers abandon their skies,

and the seas dry out !

Everything in the universe has an end

except my split blood...

Each time I think of it

You remain as large as your death.

The war planes choose you, discover you, plant

their blackness in you.

From all those clouded last visions,

how will you begin the story of harvest?

We planes select you,

at the start of your sleep,

at the end of your sleep.

How often did the sky explode over you

with hatred?

How often were you taken aside?

How many massacres did you survive ?

Now you collect all the wounds, taking refuge with

death,

wearing dreams as wings.