Here we are,
after a night of dreams and desires,
memories of the night so few,
after the semillons and sirloins,
not knowing the first from the second,
Strings of endless conversations foreby,
endless rows of date palms on Al Wasl road,
crushed dates and riped dates crying,
longing to be plucked,
on the morning of a hot summer day,
in the month of june,
under the sun now shining,
mighty, conquering, burning,
the beholder of the skies,
Could i be the date?
seem like a date on the date, the night before,
ripe, crushed, longing to be plucked.
Oh! how I miss the moon serene,
of the night gone by,
of the dreams and desires,
here we are.....