The birth of a nightingale
By Ziad Dib Jreige
From " The nightingale and his poems of dawn"
Lebanon
A sky of saints
A mount of poets
A meadow of musicians
A river of writers
North Lebanon
At the shades of rising hills
At the feet of cedar mountains
At the playgrounds of blowing winds
At the theaters of flowing waters
Al-Koura
Amidst the ancient wise olives
Amidst that dark blessed green
Amidst the clayish cliffs burnt by sun
Amidst the vast houses rhymed by rain
A celebration
A happy crowd gathering
With music filling the place
Night and rain were falling
Falling at a gentle pace
An encounter
A man stood before a woman
And stepped into an eccentric maze
An odd feeling never experienced before
A finger of fire touched his cold heart
A passion
An aroused passion made of breathing
An awakened passion built on impatience
Big enough to walk with life
Sturdy enough to chuckle at death
A talk
As a blossoming flower of a damask rose
Kissing the morning dew for the first time
As a young golden eagle with whitish wings
Riding the tides of wind for the first time
A treasure
As a poor fisherman
Shucking the right oyster
As a monk amidst sins
Touched by the Holy Spirit
A smile
An apricity
A wonder, a dawn
A look, a smile
And a nightingale was born!
