Love in Beirut
We had met on the corner of joyful marine, I was cowardice, and I hold only my umbrella
With you I discovered the pleasure of spring rain,
While lunge of the space transform to being fields of wild flowers and perfumes of forests,
Blowing its smell from your hair.
Maybe I still love you, that I still looking for and read your poems,
Eject Sniffles of the initial surprising as I chirp at the day when I watch the sea in the first time.
I moved in your body without visa, or asking for Permanent residency in your Blood circulation, writing on your Pulse Rhythm
I told you that I’m looking for constancy, and you convince me to stay on a cloud above of Rawsha, and I do
Is it Love in Beirut?