At the foot of stone walls, I saw you kneeling, Your heart deep in prayer, Your body weary. Flowing, spilling phrases, Overcome with lovely joys, Tearful weeping, Memories of alleyways... In the arms of a lover... How beautiful life seems, In the land of the Levant! Sun-bronzed skin, Of women from before. When it rains on my land, Your places are alluring. When it rains on my land, You, bathed in light... You forget your present! Within me, it rains so much, That even the greatest deserts, And their swirling winds, Are not vast enough, To hide my misery! My heart is not greedy, Parched, at bay, My mind is clear, It feeds on you, Light as a sylph, Shining with every gleam! It tends its ugly wounds, By a fireside. It burns its novenas, That it had said for you, It feels the breeze everywhere, On those candles set, At the doors of those churches, That you made me love.
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