Love and affection in the Arabian deserts captivates the deepest human’s senses and desires.Pure ,sweet yet so provocative.Loving a woman transcends even the point of admiration .Infatuated poets depict their passion like the phoenixes trying to reach the threshold of the heaven before they are exhausted ,before death captures their souls and die .Yearning , Love and compassion burn them to ashes yet from the ashes they rise again to their youthfulness .Their souls seem to be in existence as long before the universe was in existence.For as long their hearts beat they perpetually thrive.A poet is like a sparrow , but he doesn’t know how the sparrows live generation after generation ,how they build their nests or how they teach their chicks how to survive.The sparrows are mere wanderers,despite their freedom in the vast skies.The joyous melodic songs they hum to energize themselves to take all challenges of L i f e. The P o e t suffers the agony of loving a woman who doesn’t love him back or foresees his feelings,helplessness,remoteness and his solicitude that cuts like a knife .
My love you are not getting near,
And l can’t get close to you.
l am like a chick in a child’s palm .
He squeezes it between his fingers,
Causing the chick to suffer death’s bitterness.
The child is amused with his game,
Not knowing what he is doing or why.
And the Chick has no feather to set,
Itself f r e e a n d F l y .
((jalal Michael Sabbagh.http://firstname.lastname@example.org)),