The Mount


They creep slowly
                     and spread gradually
                                      all over the mountain,
                                                                      like locusts.
  Locusts
          with sharp metallic teeth,
                                            with which they chip
                                      and gnaw
                               at the mountain,
                          at the very heart
                     of the mountain,
               down to its very core.
      Until it is vanished.
It is no more.

And I stand alone
                  in front of the relics
                                        of an ancient ethos
                                                    that will never return.
                                                                           And I burn,
                                                                                    in vain I burn
                                                                                      in my yearning for it,
                                                                                                                                      to return.


 May 1998


Note: The mount in question is Mount Qassayoun is the hill overlooking Damascus and is considered one of its most famous symbols.